


Hollow

by AlphaPrime



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2018-09-24 10:54:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 67,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9720533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlphaPrime/pseuds/AlphaPrime
Summary: Amongst the members of Overwatch, Fareeha Amari finds herself growing up in an unsuitable environment. Surrounded by fighting, chaos, and death, the negative impacts it has on her life only grows more evident as she grows older. Others are determined to make sure, even with their own friction, she remains as happy as she could be.





	1. A Special Day

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone. This is mainly going to just be about Fareeha's life growing up, and what happens during some points that Blizzard hasn't clarified. Keep in mind, this is just what I want to happen - and should in no way be taken as actual confirmed lore, aside from a few major points in the writing, (Gabriel becoming Reaper, Jack becoming Soldier: 76, Ana not actually being dead, etc.)
> 
> I've realized just how interesting of a backstory Fareeha could have, and because of that, I've chosen to write about what I think may have happened, with a little added details here and there. With that said, the whole "Pharmercy" won't happen right off the bat. In fact, it might not be for a while, but it will get there. The first bit of chapters are just going to be about her life growing up around the Overwatch heroes, and how its affected her life.
> 
> There's also going to be some graphic depictions of violence later on, so if that's not your thing, I apologize. I've chosen to take a slightly darker side to writing, instead of things being so happy-go-lucky all the time.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today's Fareeha's birthday, and she plans to celebrate it with her family. Except, her mother's away on deployment, and the rest of the Overwatch members scramble what they can to make her as happy as she can be.

_My dearest Fareeha, It is with a heavy heart that I must tell you I will not be able to attend your party. I know how much you wished for me to come, and as much as I would love to be there with you, I'm afraid I'm too occupied with Overwatch; however, I have arranged for the others to be with you. It pains me to write this, as I wish I was there with you, but unfortunately my work has placed me here. I know hearing this might cause you to become distraught, but I urge you to enjoy your party with those whom arrive. Perhaps, should I rush to complete my task, I may arrive with you, and this letter will become completely void. I ask that you not hope too much for such, Fareeha. We're doing important work here, and I hope that you accept my apologies. Your mother, Ana_

\----

"It's fucked up," Gabriel Reyes shot out, folding the letter up and tucking it back away in his jacket pocket. He shook his head, and pressed his back against the wall, just next to a younger Fareeha's shut and locked door.

"Yeah, well, guess what, Reyes - it's work," A younger, more pristine version of the commended Jack Morrsion spit out, leaning on the door post in front of him. "We need Ana there. The people need her there. She's a beacon of hope, Reyes - so people don't think we've just forgotten about them."

"Forgotten about them? Are you fuckin' joking, Jack? You think they've forgotten about all the shit we've done? All the people we've lost? You're telling me that we couldn't have sent someone - anyone else out there? Or did you just forget it was-" Reyes jerked his thumb towards the door, tilting his head with an icy glare locking onto Jack's own eyes. Jack looked down towards the ground for a second, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. He hadn't meant to send Ana out, with Fareeha's birthday so close, but work was making him forget things he shouldn't have. With a sigh, he looked back up towards Reyes, holding up his right hand openly. "I forgot, Gabe. I just - with all we've had going on-" He wasn't able to get much out, before Gabriel just snerked and shook his head.

"Un-fuckin'-believable, Jack. Of all the things you forget, _this_ is what you choose?" Jack took in a deep breath, straightening himself out to begin his defensive against the accusation. "I didn't just 'forget', Reyes. In case you haven't noticed, shit's been more than hectic around here. I forgot her birthday - yeah, I'll admit that - but with the amount of shit that we've got thrown on our plates, I think it's the least of my worries. Ana will come back, and she'll celebrate with her a day or two late. I know it won't be easy, but Fareeha's a tough kid. She can handle it." He brought his hand up to the earpiece tucked away inside his right ear canal, listening intently. Reyes just stood and watched him, with none less than an accusing glare still stuck on his expression.

"Look - I've got to run. Just, check on her, please? Don't let her be alone on her birthday," Jack said, looking back up to Reyes' accusing glare. Jack's own expression softens a bit, with a bit of a pleading tone in his voice. "Please, Gabe. I ain't asking this for me - this is for her, alright?" Finally, Reyes dismissingly waved his hand, and Jack nodded his thanks. He took one last look at the door, shaking his head quickly, before turning off to walk down the end of the hallway. "I'm coming, just sit tight. Try not to break anything else - and get Torbjörn down there, too."

Gabriel watched him leave, and once he was out of his sight, he simply just shook his head and looked back towards the door. Rapping his knuckles against the door frame three times in quick hits, he leaned a bit closer to the door, saying, "Fareeha, it's me. You wanna' open up?" A response doesn't come as quickly as he had hoped, and with that, he sighs and leans back against the side of the door. "Alright, then. I'll be right here in case you change your mind at all. I got you a present, by the way - 'case that might help your decision along."

It took another minute or two, but eventually, the door unlocks and quiet footsteps could be heard going back the way they came. Reyes took that as his cue to enter. He took a hand to the door knob and turns it to the side, pushing the door open to reveal Fareeha's blue room. He really didn't notice how blue it actually was, after he was actually inside. In fact, he noticed that it was the same blue tint as the Overwatch flag. Admittedly, a small smile crept up on his lips, before he looked down to a solemn Fareeha sat on her bed. She was clinging onto her pillow, that didn't have much of a design on it, head pressed into the fabric itself. Gabriel shook his head upon seeing that, and chose to approach her carefully, sitting down next to her.

"Come on, Fareeha, cheer up. It's your birthday, remember?" He said, setting a hand on her left knee. He stared down at her, but to no avail, as she doesn't return such a gesture. She remained silent for the time being, with a few audible sniffs heard through the muffled pillow. Gabriel shook his head once again, taking the hand that was on her knee to dig it inside of his leather jacket's inner part, and reached inside one of the lined pockets. He took out a small, rectangle-shaped box. It had a crumpled bow on it, which Gabriel seemingly forgot about - seeing as the expression on his face turned to slightly cringe at the sight. With her not seeing it just yet, he quickly tried to fluff the bow up a bit, to make the present more presentable. "Hey, look, Fareeha - here's that present I was talkin' about. You wanna' open it, or you wanna' wait 'till later?" He asked, turning a bit more to face her.

Once again, the solemn Fareeha didn't really reply for a moment or two, but she eventually just nodded her head and took in a deep breath. "Now, please," she mumbled, turning her head to the side away from Gabriel, to wipe at her eyes. Once she was sure most of the emotion wasn't there in them, she turned back towards him, looking at the present with her best faked smile. She took hold of it, and Gabriel allowed her to pull it away. He leaned forward, setting his hands on his knees as he stared at her with a hopeful expression. He didn't know how she'd take it - whether or not she'd even like it, admittedly. As she began to unwrap the present, she simply set the paper aside, disposing of it care-free. Gabriel absent-mindedly noted that he'd clean it up for her after she was done either hating it or loving it. Once the top came off, she stared down inside, removing the final piece of tissue inside to reveal just what it was. Her hands let the box go down onto her lap, and her hands covered her mouth.

Gabriel took that as a good sign. "So, uh, do you like-" He wasn't able to finish his sentence, before Fareeha turned to her side and wrapped her arms around his mid-section. "I love it, Uncle Gabe," she gleamed, shutting her eyes. Gabriel let off a quiet chuckle, bringing his hand down onto her back to give it a quick few pats. He took one look to the gift, just to make sure it was indeed what he got her - and it was: An Egyptian Scarab necklace with a sterling-silver Scarab Beetle pendant in the middle of it. Gabriel shut his eyes, letting her rest against him as a slight weight lifted off his shoulders. They stayed there for another moment or two, before Fareeha pulled back and looked up to Gabriel.

"Do you know when Mum is coming back?" She asked, a rather hopeful expression now taking hold of her facial features. Gabriel was quick to reply, probably because he wanted her to keep that same expression for the rest of the day. "Soon, kiddo - I know that. In fact, uh - Jack 'n I were just talking about that. He wanted me to pass along the gift. He would've been here too, but work called, something important, apparently." Gabriel thought for a moment or two, clearing his throat with a quiet, "Yeah, him 'n I got this for you. Figured it was your style." Fareeha's eyes gleamed at that, fully pulling away from him to hold the necklace in her hands. She really seemed to admire it. Gabriel couldn't help but give off the lightest bit of a grin at the sight, before it was interrupted with her asking for him to put it on her. Her back was now to him, with the necklace held out to him.

"Uh, yeah, sure," He said, taking the necklace and pulling it around her neck. He couldn't help but feel like a father, at that point, even though he knew he wasn't hers. She was Overwatch's daughter, at that point. She called everyone Aunt and Uncle, despite having no relation to them at all. Nobody else minded it. Gabriel certainly didn't. It felt good to have someone look up to him like she did.

It was almost as if the mood changed instantly. Right then, something hit him - some kind of memory stuck inside his brain, that he tried to push out for the longest time. Gabriel's mind went blank for a second, before the entire room around him seemed to just change into something else. Now, it was no longer Fareeha in front of him - instead, it was what appeared to be some kind of evil-doer. Gabriel couldn't recognize it, but what he did pick out was how he has a smaller steel cable wrapped around his neck. He pulled tightly, immediately realizing it was an enemy, and began to pull back as hard as he could against the person. He dug his knee into the person's back, to give him that extra bit of strength he needed. The person began to choke and cough roughly, bringing their hands back to try to grab at Reyes' hands. "Just - fuckin' die, fuck!" He screamed out, pulling his head back to avoid having it grabbed. The steel cable eventually dig its way into the man's neck, and with that, a squirt of crimson shot its way out of the now punctured artery. It sprayed up and far, lining the wall in front of them with it. Some part of Reyes enjoyed it. Enjoyed knowing what he was doing, enjoyed-

"Uncle Gabe?"

Gabriel zoned back in, realizing just where he was. He had yet to lock the necklace around Fareeha's neck, and she was just waiting on him to do it. "I, uh - shit, sorry, kiddo. Must have zoned out there," He said, clearing his throat as he brought the chain around her neck, locking it at the back. He let it drop down her chest and leaned back, running his hand across his forehead. A bit of sweat gleamed on his hand, and he had realized just how bad it got to him. "It's okay," Fareeha quietly said. She understood what that was like. Her mother seemed to do it often. "Can we go show Uncle Jack?" She asked, turning back towards Gabriel with a questioning expression on her face. Gabriel just nodded his head, clearing his throat as he stood up. Fareeha stood up as well, but reaches a hand out to grab onto Gabriel's hand. "Come on, Gabe. Do you know where he is?"

He thought for a moment, but it wasn't too hard to narrow down the places. "Yeah - I think so. Come on, kiddo. Let's go."

\----

"Look, Torbjörn, can you fix it?" Jack asked, looked at the disfigured rifle on the counter. Torbjörn shrugged his shoulders, letting off a grunt. "It'll be an easy fix, Jack. Just leave me be for half an hour and this thing'll look better than it has ever!" He joked, as Jack turned around and headed toward the exit. The amount of guilt that racked his body from earlier still stayed, and he was desperately searching to find anything that Fareeha would've liked for a present. He made calls back and forth, but one call hadn't come to his mind just yet. He began to head towards the outer area of their HQ, enjoying the brisk wind of Switzerland. As he brought up his phone, he punched in a number quickly and leaned forward against a railing, looking out on the horizon. It took a moment or two for the call to connect, but it eventually did with a rather large amount of background noise filling Jack's ear.

"Jack?" The voice on the other end asked, and Jack took a second to get used to whatever was in the background, before replying. "Yeah, it's me. Listen, Ana - I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head.

"Sorry for? Jack, is everything okay?" Ana asked, static finding its way into the call. "Jack - I can barely hear you. I'm on a plane. It's _really_ loud, so try to speak up!" She said. Jack took in a deep breath. He thought for a moment, then began to say in a louder voice, "I'm sorry. I forgot today was Fareeha's birthday. If I had known a few days ago, I would've sent someone else there - or gone myself. You should be with her here, not me." The guilt poured from him, and he took a hand up to his chin to rub it quietly. He kept his eyes shut, while still leaning against the railing. Once he opened his eyes once more, he took in the surroundings - the trees that lined the base, and how wonderful nature looked in its scenery. Ana took a second to reply, more than likely going over everything he had said. Finally, she shook her head as well, though not able to be seen by Jack. 

"Jack, it's fine. Try not to dwell on it. I don't blame you for forgetting. Your job is hard enough. Just know that I'm not upset at you, and I truly doubt she is, either. Try to spend some time with her, okay? I don't want her to be alone on her birthday. I should be there in, uh - in about six hours, roughly. That's what the pilot's said, at the least." As she finished talking, Jack rose his eyebrows up, with a bit of hope resurrecting inside of him. "You what? You're on your way back? What about-" Ana quickly cut him off, with an ease in her voice that gave him a slight bit of reassurance. "It's taken care of, Jack." He sighed and nodded his head, remaining silent for a moment. "Jack?" Ana asked. Jack quickly replied with, "I'm still here." She took in a deep breath, before asking, "Don't tell her I'm back? I want it to be a surprise for her."

"I won't, Ana. Just get back safe."

It was weird, how words could affect a person so much. Hearing Jack say that made Ana feel like she was more than just a soldier to him, which she knew she was already - a friend, easily. Definitely one of her best friends. They'd known each other for so long now; Jack had practically watched Fareeha grow up to who she was now. She tried not to think about it too much, but Jack was almost like a father to Fareeha. The thought brought Ana displeasure, as she wanted her to grow up with her real father - but she knew so little about him, that there was no way she would go for it. Her growing up on a military installation didn't help Ana's fears of her eventually turning into a younger version of herself, but she tried her best to convince her otherwise. She even looked at different career options Fareeha might have been interested in, but each one she dismissed, claiming she had already made up her mind. Once the phone call ended, Ana tucked it into her pant pocket and stared down at the ground, hands clasped together in thought. "How much longer?" She asked over the pilot's communication. "Coming up on about five and a half more hours. Shouldn't be too long, ma'am," he replied. Ana nodded her head and leaned back into her chair, resting her eyes.

Jack took in a deep breath once the call ended. He tucked his phone away and turned around, only to see an excited Fareeha sprinting up to him, Gabriel in tow. He adjusted the beanie over his head and nodded to Jack, who only returned the nod casually.

"Uncle Jack!" She exclaimed, as she ran up to him, wrapping her arms around his torso. He towered over her, and had to hunch down slightly for her. "Thank you so, so much for my present," Fareeha said, shutting her eyes and leaning her head against his ribs. "I, uh," Jack began, tilting his head to the side. After he eyed the necklace she wore, he shot a quick glance at Gabriel, who had his arms folded across his chest and nodded his head with a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. Jack silently mouthed a 'thank you' and looked back down to Fareeha, running his hand through her hair a bit. "Well, I'm glad you like it-" Fareeha quickly cut him off, correcting him, "I love it." Jack let off a brief laugh, nodding his head as he squat down to maintain eye contact with her. "You know, Gabriel picked it out. Did you thank him for it?" Fareeha nodded her head quickly, brushing some hair out of her face. "Yes. He let me open it first."

Jack was just about to speak, but a thunderous booming of footsteps were heard to his left. He looked to where they originated from and rose up an eyebrow, and was about to say something to Fareeha, but she already took off running.

"Reinhardt!" She exclaimed, running up to the armor-clad behemoth with a look of admiration in her eyes.

"Hah hah! Fareeha!" Reinhardt boomed, heard by many within the facility. He quickly wrapped Fareeha up in his arms, and lifted her over his shoulders, onto his neck. She wrapped her legs around it and held onto his forehead, assuming her usual position. "It is your birthday today! Why are you not celebrating?" He asked, quickly waving one hand to Jack and Gabriel, who returned it with a nod. He turned around as Fareeha began to answer him, and walked back where he came from. While Fareeha's answer might not have been heard by them, Reinhardt's certainly was. "Bah! Excuses! Come, Fareeha - we shall celebrate such an event!" He finished his sentence with booming laughter, that echoed throughout the outer area of the Switzerland Headquarters. Once the pair were out of sight, Jack turned to face Gabriel.

"Thanks," he said, holding out his right hand. Gabriel just shook his head, turning towards where Reinhardt and Fareeha went. "I didn't do it for you, Jack," Gabriel quickly replied, before he started walking. Jack didn't follow him at first, lowering his hand back down to think on what he said. With a quick shake of his head, he sighed and followed after Gabriel, deciding to leave some distance between them.

\----

Several hours went by, and it grew dark. The sun had set over the horizon, many of the Overwatch members went to the cafeteria. It wasn't too often they had a huge get-together like this, so most took the chance to have some fun for a change. Angela Ziegler was on her way there, finally finishing up the last bits of her research. Even despite her young age, she had accomplished so many great things. It was astonishing. Some people said she was 'the modern Einstein', and some said that she was even above Einstein. While she tried to not let the compliments get to her, it certainly felt good to have people say it. It made her feel good - like she had really done something. 

But tonight wasn't about her. No, she was celebrating Fareeha's birthday. She picked out a present that she hoped she would've enjoyed - after all, it was probably easier for her to relate to someone so young. That's what she hoped, at least. While she didn't show it, a part of her was nervous. The last real birthday party she had gone to was a friend she had spoken to that worked at the hospital with her. Even then, it had been awkward. Angela spent so much of her time focusing on her studies, that she had become a less social member of the group. She didn't mean for it to happen, of course - but there was only so much she could do. 

Shaking off the thoughts, she ran a hand up to her face and brushed her hair behind her right ear, pushing open the cafeteria's double-doors. Everyone was already there - no doubt, she was probably the last to arrive. Her cheeks flushed a light red at the thought, primarily in embarrassment, but she forced herself to power through it and walk over to everyone. "Uh, hello, everyone," she said, clearing her throat. The table all looked up to her, many others vocalizing their hellos, while some just chose to wave. It was Reinhardt's greeting that got to her most, mainly because the giant-sized man brought his hand to pat it against her back, which felt like a rough slap with his size. "Ouch," she mumbled. Reinhardt only laughed at that, shaking his head. "Ah, Angela! You need to drink more milk! Strengthen your bones!" He shouts, before looking back to Fareeha.

And there she was, sat at the front of the table, with the others all to her sides. Jack and Gabriel were stood behind her. She had a blue Overwatch baseball cap on, with the logo proudly presented on the front. Her smile was more than genuine; it looked as if she were having the time of her life. Angela couldn't help but smile at the sight. She always enjoyed seeing people having fun like that. It took her a moment, but she quickly remembered the present she was supposed to give her. She walked over around Reinhardt to get to Fareeha, and was just about to extend her hands out.

Then she realized she didn't have the present with her. Angela's eyes went wide, and her breath caught in her throat. If the red in her cheeks wasn't visible before, it certainly was now. Most of the table had gone quiet at the sight, staring over at her with some expressions of concern in their eyes. "I, uh," Angela quickly stammered, looking around the table. "I - I seem to have forgotten to submit something. I'll, I'll be back," she muttered, before she turned to go back out the way she came. She always tried to stick to her habit of not cursing, but once she exited the cafeteria, Angela let off a brief string of Germanic curses. Speed-walking back to her quarters, she cursed herself for being such a fool and forgetting such an important part of the party. She made mental notes to not be so rushed, and began to accuse herself of such a simple task. What if that were a patient, and she needed to perform a life-saving surgery? Would she have forgotten her tools? Idiot. Idiot, idiot, idiot. If she wasn't in public, she probably would've tapped her palm against her forehead a few times - but imagining what someone would've said if they saw that was too embarrassing, so she held it in and entered her room.

Angela almost scoffed at the sight of her room. For her being such a cleanly person, her room displayed the opposite. If anyone had seen it, they probably would've thought different of her. Angela cleared her head, though, and focused back onto what was right now. She dug around for Fareeha's gift, and found it not even wrapped, hardly presentable. Another curse slipped out of her mouth, this time rather louder than the rest. It echoed off her walls and haunted the back of her throat. She reached for the set of wrapping paper she meant to use way earlier, and quickly began to wrap it along the square box, folding the sides against the box itself, so it had a perfect fit. Angela took a clear tape-dispenser and began to tape the sides down, so that the paper would stay still. Once that was finished, she reached up for a blue bow to match the blue and white paper, slapping it down on the top of the box. With a relieving sigh, she stood up and tucked the present under her arm, wondering how long it actually took her to do everything. After coming to the conclusion that it took too long, she picked up the speed of her walking and headed for the cafeteria, tightly holding onto the present.

As she pushed the doors open, her heart dropped. She saw that most everyone was already sat down, and Fareeha was in the middle of opening up everyone's presents. It seemed like she had a bit to go, but that didn't matter to Angela. What mattered was now she'd have to give her the present later than she really wanted to, and-

"Oh, no," Angela whispered. What she saw made her happy and disheartened. Ana stood behind her daughter, both hands set down on her shoulders. She watched her unwrap her presents with a smile on her face, dressed in her combat gear, for the most part. She was missing her rifle and handgun - probably because it was enforced all around the facility. Still, though, Angela knew that Fareeha probably wouldn't look twice at her gift now. She sighed, shaking her head. After Angela made her way to the table where everyone was sat at, she gently set her present down in the pile of others, and went to stand behind Winston. Admittedly, it wasn't the best decision, was Winston was quite taller than her, but she thought that maybe if she stood behind Winston, the others wouldn't pay much attention to her. She leaned forward, choosing to wrap her arms around him to lock her hands at his chest, leaning her cheek against his shoulder. Winston briefly looked back to her, eyeing the distraught look on her.

"Angela? Is something wrong?" He asked, looking back towards Fareeha, to try to not bring much attention to the pair. Angela shook her head, opening her eyes to look at Fareeha, as well. "I just wish I had my head straight, Winston. I forgot her present, forgot to wrap it, and now I am worried about if she will even like what I got her," Angela said, quietly clearing her throat just after. Winston quirked a fuzzy eyebrow and looked at her for a moment, then back to Fareeha. "Something tells me your gift would only lighten her spirits more. She believed her mother would not be returning today. While you may not top that, whatever you brought her can only add onto her happiness," He said, and Angela just sighed knowingly with it. "I know, Winston," She mumbled. Winston pat her hand with his own gigantic, callused hand. The two remained silent after that, laughing with everyone else when the situation arose, but kept their attention onto Fareeha.

While Angela didn't say anything, a part of her began to finally realize just how much she appreciated everyone here. They were all a family, and each one of them realized it, too. They didn't have to say it, but if the situation ever came up and one was forced to take a bullet for the other, they'd gladly do it. No matter if they were man, machine or monkey; they'd lay down their lives for each other. It was a special kind of group, and Angela felt exceptionally lucky to be apart of it.

\----

Another hour had gone by. Most everyone now had left and gone to bed, aside from a few exceptions. Jack, Gabriel, Angela, Winston, Reinhardt, and Lena Oxton all chose to stay, with the exceptions of Fareeha and Ana. Ana was tired beyond belief, with dark circles under her eyes that showed to those who chose to look. Those who did just blew it off, deciding it was better to leave it be, rather than intrude on her daughter's birthday. The amount of wrapping paper that was thrown away filled up its fair share of disposable garbage bags, and the presents she received were all set on a cart for her to move once they finished up in the cafeteria. The rest of the group was recalling stories for Fareeha's excitement. She always loved hearing them talk about their bravery; in fact, it only drove her want to join even further. Ana allowed them to tell their stories publicly just this one, but noticed the look on her daughter's face was priceless. Ana looked back around the table, and noticed Angela with her head in her arms. She shot a quick glance to Winston, who nodded his head and reached to shake her lightly. Angela stirred lightly in protest, but Winston leaned down to mutter something.

Fareeha quickly picked up on that, and while Reinhardt was in the middle of telling one of his infamous stories, she piped up with, "Is she okay, Winston?"

Winston turned back to Fareeha, pushing his glasses further up his nose. "Oh, uh, yes. She's fine. She's just tired," He said, looking back to Angela. He went to carefully wrap his arm around her torso, to heft her over his right shoulder. "I'll take her back to her room. I hope you had an excellent birthday, Fareeha," Winston said with a grin. Fareeha returned the toothy grin, nodding her head. "I did. Thanks for coming, Winston!" Winston let off a quiet laugh, for Angela's sake, and nodded to Ana. Ana returned the nod and watched him go, before setting her hands back down on Fareeha's shoulders. "Come on, Fareeha. It's getting late. You need to be in bed," She said, leaning down to peck at the top of her head.

Fareeha couldn't help but frown, looking up to her mother with pleading eyes. Ana didn't budge; Fareeha knew she wouldn't, but it was worth a shot. "Okay," she said, standing up out of her seat, She stretches and pops her shoulders, which caused Reinhardt to erupt with laughter. "You are getting old, Fareeha! Your bones show it!" Fareeha rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue, then tugged on her mother's hand. Jack held up his hand, saying, "I'll get this all cleaned up. Don't worry about it." Gabriel piped up, too. "Yeah. I guess I'll help, too." Jack turned to look at Gabriel, who met his stare. There didn't seem to be any hostility in it, for the most part. Ana thanked them both, and Reinhardt and Lena both left to do whatever they wanted to. Lena was probably going to go to bed. Reinhardt, however, was more than likely going to smash some more training bots with his enormous hammer.

Ana turned back to look at Jack and Gabriel beginning to clean up, and as she did, she felt Fareeha climb up on her and wrap her legs around her waist. "Easy," Ana said, with a quiet grunt. "Your mother is growing old, and you are growing heavier." Fareeha laughed out at that, and dug her chin into Ana's shoulder. "I am so glad you're here, Mum. I was worried you would miss my party, then I got that letter and I was so sad." Ana frowned at that. She only sent the letter out as a precaution, in case she might not have actually gotten back in time. "Well, I'm glad you had a good time. I was worried I would miss your birthday, as well. I'm sorry for not telling you I was coming back sooner, but the look on your face when you saw me was priceless," Ana said, grinning as she looked back to Fareeha. Fareeha's cheeks went red in embarrassment, and she dug her head into Ana's neck. They remained silent the rest of the trip, until they reached their quarters. Fareeha hopped off her mother's back and fell onto the bed, while Ana began to remove pieces of her armor. "Mum, do you think Father will ever come visit us?"

The question caught Ana very off guard. She froze in her task, thinking deeply on the question. Finally, after she recovered, she sat down with Fareeha and set a hand on her knee. "Fareeha, we've spoken about this. Your father left for a reason. I don't want you worrying about him, okay?" She asked, looking down to her daughter with a risen eyebrow. Fareeha sputtered her lips and nodded her head, relaxing against the bed. "Okay," she simply replied, choosing not to say much else. The silence uneasily settled in around them, and Ana cleared her throat to break it. "I-"

She was cut off by knocking at the door. Fareeha looked up to it, but Ana shook her head. "You lie back. I will get it," She said, as she began to head over towards the door. As she opened it up, both Jack and Gabriel stood outside it, with the cart loaded up with presents between them. Ana rushed it inside, but told them to wait there. Fareeha bound over to the cart, which made Ana roll her eyes. "Go to bed, Fareeha," She repeated, and shut the door behind her. She faced the pair and folded her arms across her chest, with a slight accusing look focusing on the both of them. "I trust you two set your differences aside for her, today?" She asked, with a hint of assertion in her tone. They both nodded, and Gabriel leaned against the wall in a casual manner. 

"Come on, Ana. You think we'd kill each other on your daughter's birthday?" Jack asked. Gabriel looked up to him and rose his eyebrows, then focused back to Ana. She focused onto him. "No, but I know how you two are. She thinks the world of you both, and if you were negative of each other at all, it would kill her. You know that," she shot back, then looked to Gabriel. "She said you bought her the necklace, and Jack pitched in. Is that true?" Gabriel rose a hand up casually, saying, "Well, sort of. I bought it for her, but Jack forgot her birthday." The look of guilt went back to Jack's face. Gabriel was quick to catch on, saying, "And I knew it would kill her if she found out he didn't get her anything. So, yeah, I said we both got her something together. She loved the necklace, and I didn't want Jack bein' the asshole in the picture." Ana nodded her head, a quick grin tugging at her lips. "Thank you, Gabriel. She loves the necklace. You have good taste in Egyptian Jewelry." Gabriel snickered, and Jack quickly piped up with, "And I appreciate it, Gabe. Really. I didn't ask you to do it, but you did anyway. So, uh - thank you." Gabriel casually shrugged his shoulders, looking back to Ana.

Ana waved her hand forward, trying to usher them along. "Now, go, go. She needs to be in bed," Ana said, before folding her arms back together. Gabriel leaned off the wall and looked back to Jack, jerking his head towards the end of the hallway. Jack nodded silently, and the two casually took their dismissal. Ana watched them leave, partially grateful for the way they treated her daughter. Once they were out of her sight, she took in a deep breath and pushed the door back open, entering as quietly as she could. Peeking her head around the corner, she saw Fareeha sprawled out on the bed, with a stuffed falcon tucked under her arm. There was a note stuck to the top of it. Ana leaned in to read what was on it, and a grin formed on her lips as she read: "To: Fareeha Amari. From: Angela Ziegler. - I hope you enjoy your gift, Fareeha, and have a wonderful birthday."

Ana laid down on the bed next to her, setting her hands on her stomach. She looked up towards the ceiling, staring at it for a quiet moment or two, then shut her eyes. The day lasted so long, but she wished she could relive it over and over again, just to see her daughter's happiness once again. While she tried to fall asleep, she felt the bed rustle for a bit, until something pressed down against her chest. She opened her eyes to see Fareeha curled up against her, and took an arm to wrap it around her torso. "Goodnight, Mum," Fareeha muttered, yawning just after. Ana leaned down to peck at the top of her head, then leaned back, shutting her eyes again. There was a part of her that was truly thankful for everything around her. The people she worked with - the such fun-loving, energetic, pack of family she loved - and everything they did. Protecting the innocent. Ana knew that it might not have been the best environment for a little girl to grow up in, but she did it well. She enjoyed everyone here, maybe even more than Ana did. But, she chose to let the thoughts slip out of her mind, clearing it for the night. Ana tightened her arm around Fareeha and took in a yawn.

"Goodnight, Fareeha."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter may have been a bit slow, as it wasn't action packed from start to finish. It's primarily to set the backstory of a lot of characters, and help explain Fareeha's relationship with them. I know it may not have been all in Fareeha's point of view, and it skipped around from character to character, but as this story progresses, it will eventually singularly focus on characters. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed what you read. If you did, please feel free to say. Feedback, whether negative or positive, is always appreciated.
> 
> (Also, I know I said dark language and graphic violence, but I figured this first part would be lighter so everyone could grasp just what they were reading. :) It'll get darker on down the road.)


	2. Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fareeha finds herself releasing bottled-in emotions, but in a way that not many saw coming - especially not Doctor Ziegler.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to try incorporating actual music into my writing. For this one, when Fareeha's on her bed listening to music, this is the first song that plays: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WTTkNlvrYeQ
> 
> Also: I'd like to try and get these chapters out fast. I hate keeping those who enjoy reading this waiting. I promised this one would be out by Friday, and here it is (it's currently 1:49 AM)

"Jack, get out of my way."

Ana tried to push past him, but Jack held onto her shoulders tightly. "Just - hang on a second, Ana. What'd she say?" He asked, in a voice that did its best to calm her down. The anger in her eyes shot right up to him, giving him an icy feeling rolling down his spine. Jack certainly didn't like the look of it, but whatever happened gave her a look that he hadn't seen in a long time. Ana brushed his hands off of her, choosing to stay still, only for a moment.

"She said she beat on some kid. She was crying. I could barely make out a word she said. She said she was in the clinic. They were trying to get her to say why she beat him, and I doubt they can get her to say. I need to be there, Jack. She said she hurt him bad." Ana's eyes went into a more pleading tone. "Please, Jack. She's only fifteen. She can't be getting into fights like this."

Jack hesitated, thinking retaliation wasn't the best option. Before he could say anything, Gabriel came down the hall, eyeing the pair carefully. "What's goin' on?" He asked, leaning against the wall once he was in a closer proximity to them. Ana turned around, sighing. She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Fareeha's gotten into a fight at school." Gabriel quirked an eyebrow, suddenly rather interested. "No shit? Damn. We headed out?" 

It was Jack's turn to look confused, now. Gabriel suddenly included himself in this, without being asked to. Once again, he found himself being cut off, this time by Ana. "Yes, we are." She turned to Jack with an expected look on her face. He knew what it meant. Without another word, Jack pushed the door open, and the trio exited the building. Unlike before, they weren't greeted by the chilling winds of Switzerland. No, they were met with heated air that lingered with humidity.

Watchpoint: Gibraltar.

Hot. 

Arid.

Dry. 

Those three words summed it up rather well to Jack. No one really liked the heat, aside from Ana and Fareeha, but they were born into a hot environment. He hated it. Sweat constantly going down his forehead, always seemed like he was out of breath. He was thankful the base had some bit of air conditioning. Of course, he never said that. He knew Gabriel would give him shit for it. Probably say something along the lines of, 'Wow, Jack. Guess that position really turned you into a pussy, huh?' No matter. He kept it to himself, and that was the end of it.

"Jack, keep up." He turned his head to see Ana speed-walking to their car. Gabriel followed a bit behind her, with Jack now being the last. He shook his head and matched her pace, sliding into front passenger seat. Ana hopped into the driver's seat, with Gabriel behind her. She turned on the vehicle, and it lifted off the ground slightly, to the point where it was roughly a foot from the ground. They all shut their doors tightly. "I just don't get it," Gabriel spoke up from the back seat. They flew off towards the main road, heading further into the city. "Why do you think she'd punch some kid? That don't really sound like her."

Ana was first to speak up, with a more hopeless, "I don't know. She better have a good reason, though."

\----

She hated everyone.

Everyone.

Well, almost everyone. There were some exceptions, people she didn't hate so much. But everyone else - hated.

Fareeha knew hardly anyone at her school. Everytime Ana would be placed at a new base, she'd come with her, attending whatever local school there was for her. That's how it always went. School after school.

And she hated it.

It was always so hard making friends. They'd talk about something she'd be so clueless about, and she'd be left stunned there. Fareeha eventually grew to the point where she stopped trying to make friends, and just stuck to the people she knew and loved best. She promised herself that she'd bear through each day, so she could be rewarded with her talks with the members of Overwatch. That was always her favorite part of the day, going home to talk to her heroes.

In fact, she was on her way home now. Or, well, she was about to board the bus home. No one really gave her a second look. She was just another pimple-faced hall-walker that always had her ear buds in and hardly paid attention to where she was walking. She couldn't wait to get back to the base, but a group of kids came up.

They weren't really much. They were kind of lanky like her, except for the kid in the middle. He had a belly that rounded over his belt, and, admittedly, Fareeha cracked a grin at that. That's what caught his attention.

"Somethin' funny, puta?" He hissed, approaching her like how a lion approached a gazelle - except, much less graceful. Fareeha quickly stiffened up, holding onto her books tightly. She never liked direct confrontation with anyone, not even her teachers. "No," she mumbled out, like a scared girl in your typical high school movie. He looked back to his 'boys' and let off a roar of laughter, until he got closer to her and brought a hand down on her books. They tumbled out of her grip and onto the hard concrete. To make things worse, he hocked a loogie and sent it right onto her chest. Luckily for her, she was wearing a light jacket with a zipper down the middle.

She paused for a second, dumbfounded. How could anyone be so revolting? And how could anyone act like that to her, the daughter of the legendary Ana Amari?

Oh. That's right.

She never used that last name. They always made some fake one up, to avoid any news reports of her, or special treatment from her teachers. That didn't matter right now, though. She wouldn't need it.

The rage built up in her, with everything she hated. Everyone she hated, even. She looked around her, noticing that a small crowd had formed with the confrontation. An agitated sigh escaped from her nose, and she slowly began to unzip her jacket, to pull it off and set it aside.

"Hey, coño, stripping won't help you now," One of them joked. Fareeha couldn't tell which one. She stepped forward, getting in the face of the one who spit on her. He pointed to her and looked back to the ones behind him, saying, "Look at this gilipollas, she-"

Only, he was cut off with a hard right hook to his jaw. He tumbled to the ground and landed on his side, tightly holding his hands on his jaw. The others looked in silence at first, before they turned to Fareeha. She had her hands raised, slightly leveled with her collar. It wasn't like a movie, like she expected. They didn't come at her one at a time. Instead, they all rushed forward, and actually caught her off guard at first. One tackled her to the ground, and another came around to her upper body. He slammed a fist down on her nose, which, to anyone close enough to hear it, gave off a sickening crack. Fareeha cried out in pain, and was dragged up to her feet with someone pinning her hands behind her back. The boy she assaulted first came up and slammed his fist into her stomach, causing the two trails of blood that came down from her nose to swerve to the side, getting onto her cheek.

What did she get herself into? She'd been trained by her mother, but there were four of them!

She tried to settle herself out with the pain, now. Her bearings were lost, and her vision was blurred with a thick licked that clouded her eyes. Her face went a dark red, and before she knew it, she was back on the ground, laid out on her back. "Stupid cunt," one of them shot out. Fareeha took a second to wipe the blood away from her nose, and slowly began to push herself back up. Once she was actually back on her feet, she looked back towards the group, raising her hands back up to where they were before.

Fareeha knew how they'd attack now. They had no proper strategy, no fighting technique. Admittedly, one-on-one, it would've been a much quicker fight, but this was the hand she was dealt. The 'leader' of the small group looked around to the other students, who were primarily recording it on their cell-phones. No one really stepped in. No one ever did. They were cheering on the boys, yelling things like, "Get her ass, hermano!" or "Teach that stupid bitch a lesson!"

Of course, that's how most fights went now. No one ever stepped in to help. No one ever showed some sense of heroism.

Except Fareeha.

When they charged, she was ready. She ducked to her right and caught one of them by the neck, using her own strength to push against him and slam him into the ground. He cried out in pain, and Fareeha relentlessly slammed her fist onto his mouth. She didn't realize how hard she actually hit, but when he turned over, blood pooled out of his mouth, and a cracked tooth or two fell out. While she didn't have any remorse for him, she did feel bad about his teeth. The others looked at her in a fit of rage, seeing their boy down like that. One came in hard and fast, and was felt Fareeha's foot swiftly catch itself between his legs. His scream was probably the girliest she ever heard a boy give, and he fell to the ground. A spew of vomit came out onto the ground next to him.

He probably wasn't getting up. She certainly didn't feel any remorse for _him_.

One began to back off, but the chubby that instigated the whole fight came in. He swung a left jab at her ribs and felt it connect. Fareeha stumbled to the side, wincing in pain. Something didn't feel right with that, but as his right hook came in, she caught it and twisted his wrist to the side. He screamed in pain and gave will to her, falling to the ground. She stared down at him, fit with a hell-fueled rage that she truly couldn't figure out. And with that, she bent his arm to the side and sent her right hand down, breaking his forearm. 

She didn't even realize how much force she used with it, but when the bone stuck out in the air, her eyes went wide and her mouth went agape. He erupted in a screaming fit of pain, rolling on the concrete.

The crowd went silent all around, but no one stopped recording. They all stared at her like she was some type of freak. Her face went red and another trail of blood came down her nose. No one dared to say anything, and it probably would've stayed that way had a teacher not come out first. She ushered everyone away, and took Fareeha by the arm. Fareeha couldn't help but stare at the mess she made, the pain she put those boys in. Before she knew it, she was back in the cool confines of the school and was in the clinic, the nurse looking over her carefully.

Fareeha blew off any forms of treatment. She didn't want any local doctor putting their hands on her. She had the right to deny treatment as a student, and brought her phone out of her backpack. There was a minute or two of hesitation, as she stared down at the number listed on the screen. The contact was titled "Mother", and she finally caved in.

\----

The ride there was faster than Jack and Gabriel figured it would've been. They saw the scene - two of the boys were being loaded into ambulances, while the other was given an ice pack and a look of disappointment. They parked where the buses usually would've, and once they got out of the car, everyone's attention turned to them.

It wasn't everyday that the Commander, Former-Commander, and Second-in-Command came to visit your school. No one really knew why they were there, but once they caught a look at the resemblance between Fareeha and Ana, it didn't take too long to guess why. It also explained why Fareeha could fight so well. A moment went by, before everyone went wild, rushing up to them for their autographs. 

The trio pushed past them, determined to find Fareeha - and their mission was quickly over. There she was, with her backpack slung over her shoulders, jacket tucked over her arm, and - a bloodied face.

Ana's eyes went wide at the sight. Even her knuckles were red. A bit of blood stained her shirt, and Ana figured it was someone else's. She quickly grabbed her daughter by the arm the best she could, and hurried along back to the car. The crowd looked at Fareeha being dragged by her mother and quickly changed their tone, saying, "You did great, Fareeha!" and "You really showed those bitches whose boss!" 

Fareeha blew it all off. She knew where their loyalties truly lied. By the time she got in the car, she plugged her ear buds back in and leaned her head against the window, shutting her eyes. Ana stared at her expectantly. Jack and Gabriel both looked at each other, wondering if they should say anything.

They didn't.

Ana did.

"Fareeha Amari, you will take those ear buds out right this second!" The both of them jumped at that. Neither of them were really expecting her to yell like that, and when Fareeha did as ordered, her gaze didn't meet her mother's. "Ana, maybe you should-" Jack tried to say, but was quickly cut off with, "Not now, Jack!"

Gabriel snickered, and Ana glared at him. The snicker quickly died down. Ana scoffed and turned the ignition over, letting the vehicle hover up. She drove them back the way the came, but kept her eyes on the rear-view mirror to keep her glare focused on Fareeha. "Don't you even realize what you did? You put two boys in ambulances! Did you even _think_ about what you were doing?" Fareeha quickly retaliated by leaning forward and meeting her glare, saying, "I knew what I was doing, Mother. I was doing what _you_ do best."

Ana squinted her eyes. "And what is _that_ supposed to mean?" She asked in an accusing tone, as if she expected an answer that satisfied her. "It means - you drag me along everywhere you go, base to base, country to country, and you go off for weeks on end! You expect me to make friends at a school I know I will not be at for more than a month, because 'people will like me'! Do you even know how difficult it is to make friends?" She looked at Jack and Gabriel, scoffing. "Oh, wait. All of your friends do the same as you. You expect me to go from school to school and make new friends each time, and expect me to be happy as can be about it! Guess what, Mother? I fucking hate it!"

Both Jack and Gabriel quickly piped up with, "Watch your language." They gave each other a silent look, before looking back to the front. Ana was next to speak up, saying, "Fareeha, just because you have trouble making friends does not give you the right to beat on whomever you choose." Fareeha threw her jacket at her, speaking in a more desperate tone. "They laugh at me all day, Mother! They push me, shove me, trip me - and now they have spit on me! If these are the people I will go to school with, then I will not go to school at all!"

Ana's eyes softened. She hadn't expected such a passionate response from her daughter. She decided to let the rest of the drive back go silent, allowing her to think on everything that happened. Once they parked outside of the facility, Fareeha shoved her door open and slammed it shut, hurrying off. "Just - at least go to Doctor Ziegler, Fareeha!" Ana pleaded, watching her daughter escape from her sight. Gabriel came up behind her, setting a hand on her shoulder. "Let her go, Ana. She probably needs to be alone." While she didn't admit it, she knew he was right. A dejected sigh came out of her, and she threw Fareeha's coat over her shoulder and followed the both of them inside. "I worry about her," Ana solemnly admitted. Jack looked back to her, nodding his head.

"We all do, Ana."

\----

Fareeha ran past anyone that even gave her the slightest look of concern. All she wanted to do then was just go to her room and cry. Which, actually, is just what she did. She blew off her mother's request and went right to her room, sitting on her bed with a pillow held against her chest tightly. The adrenaline was beginning to leave her, and the pain began to finally hit her. She tried to ignore it best she could, but something didn't feel right at her rib-area. Her nose was definitely busted - that much she knew. Her earbuds were tightly pressed into her ears, blaring some form of older music.[1]

It blasted in her ears, but she eventually found herself focusing onto the knocking that came at her door. With a few sniffles and a wipe at her eyes, she tried to stand to her feet. It hurt like Hell, but she eventually did it, leaning on the wall next to her for support. She shuffled over to the door and unlocked it, pulling it open. For a moment, she thought she was dreaming - like an angel came down from the Heavens to look over her. Maybe that was just the pain messing with her mind, because when she did a quick double-take, she found Angela looking over her with a deep concern in her eyes.

"Mein Gott, Fareeha, what happened?" Angela quickly asked. She threw an arm around her shoulders and tried to assist her getting back to the bed, instantly picking up on something being wrong. Fareeha did her best to seem as tough as she could, only waving her hand. The blood that dried at her nose told a different story. "Some kids at my school decided to try their luck against me. It didn't go their way," She joked, mustering a weak laugh that only ended in her sharply inhaling with pain. Angela shook her head, reaching for the hand-bag she brought with her. "Your nose says that you are lying," Angela said, as she quickly reached for a syringe. Fareeha shook her head. "No. No needles. I despite needles." Angela stared at her, as if she couldn't believe what she was saying. 

"Fareeha, if I do not give you this, resetting your nose is going to cause you tremendous pain," Angela replied. Fareeha stared at her, shaking her head once again. "I can handle it." 

There she was again, trying to act tough. Though, she truly didn't know why she was. But, despite that, she turned towards Angela and ground her teeth. She held up a thumbs up quickly. Angela looked unsure about it, and hesitantly brought up her hand to Fareeha's nose. With one quick move, she pushed the bone back into place. Fareeha cried out at that, howling in pain. All Angela did was shake her head knowingly. "I told you, did I not? Perhaps next time, you should listen, instead of acting bold." Fareeha took one hand down to her ribs, lightly pressing against it. Angela rose up an eyebrow. "Is something else the matter?" She asked, as she dabbed at the blood crusted on Fareeha's nose. Fareeha quietly nodded her head, not having much else to say. 

Angela sighed. She didn't know how to ask this, and decided that being blunt was the best approach.

"Lift up your shirt."

Fareeha's eyes quickly went wide, and her cheeks flushed a slight pink. "I, uh - you want me to, to do what?" Angela did her best to remain as professional as possible. "I need to look at your ribs, correct? I cannot do that while you have fabric blocking it."

Fareeha turned her head away, quietly clearing her throat. She did as she was asked of, taking her hands to the very hem of her shirt and lifting it up until it was at her shoulders. From there, she pulled out her arms from the sleeve sockets and let the shirt stay on her shoulders, exposing her torso. The only fabric that was left was a grey sports-bra that didn't show much of anything, thankfully. Angela took a glance at her stomach, and the bruises that formed all along her front. She shook her head, asked, "And you are sure that it did _not_ go their way?" Fareeha sputtered her lips, lightly shrugging her shoulders. Angela took a roll of gauze and began to wrap it along Fareeha's ribs repeatedly, until it carefully put enough pressure along her. She tucked the end of the gauze into the back of the wrap, to keep it there. "May I ask you something, Fareeha?" Angela asked. Fareeha shrugged her shoulders again, saying, "I'd be offended if you chose not to."

Angela took a second, turning away. She packed up her medical kit and stuck it back inside of her hand-bag, then turned back to Fareeha. "You have never been one to actually use violence in situations. Why now? And why to such a degree?"

Fareeha really didn't know how to answer the question, truthfully. It took her an awkward 30 seconds of silence before she got it out. "I don't know. My body just told me to fight back, to beat them. It was the first real fight I have ever been in. It felt - good," She said, looking down at the ground. She brought her hands up to pull her shirt back down, covering her torso back up. "It's all I have ever known. From a young age, my mother taught me to fight. I have been wanting to join Overwatch, too, but I am too young. I suppose I just - I don't want to feel useless."

Angela rose an eyebrow up. "Useless? Why would you believe you are useless? You're far from it, Fareeha. You being here lifts the spirits of our troops tremendously. They enjoy seeing you here, having such a fun time." Fareeha was quick to reply. "Yes, but what about when they are out on the field? What then? How many of them do you believe think of me?" Angela folded her arms, replying at the same speed as Fareeha did. "I know for a fact your mother does. Reinhardt does, too. As do Gabriel and Jack."

"Okay, but those are some of my closest friends. My mother does not count, either. She is my mother. I'd be upset if she didn't think of me." Fareeha slowly eased herself back onto the bed, laying down carefully on her back. She grit her teeth and gave a quiet hiss to the pain that shot up her spine, but did her best to ignore it. Angela stood up, giving her plenty of room to lay down. "Well, what else do you expect? You're only a child, Fareeha. There is only so much you can do." Fareeha rolled her eyes, letting her hands rest on her stomach. "And when you were my age, what were you doing?"

Angela stayed quiet. She already knew the answer, and knew Fareeha was probably being rhetorical. With a quick shake of her head, she threw her bag over her shoulder and looked back down to Fareeha. "Will you promise me that you will take the next few weeks easy? Please, Fareeha?" Fareeha gave a casual shrug of her shoulders, looking up to Angela. "I will," She said, watching Angela nod her head and head towards the door. "You're welcome to get in touch with me if you feel any further pain. Oh-" Angela quickly walked back over to her, and handed out a white box. She set it next to her on the bed, saying, "Take two of those. Four a day, preferably, but since it is already so late, two is fine." Fareeha dismissed her with a wave of her hand, and stared her down as she left.

Oh, the things she wish she could've done to her.

Of course, that was the 15 year-old part of her brain talking. She watched at the uniform Angela wore tightly fit her figure, only crinkling with the swaying of her hips.

Oh, man.

She felt tingles travel down her body and tried to ignore them. She just got in a fight, and more than likely got suspended from school. Possibly even expelled. It didn't matter; by her approximation, she wouldn't have been at that school for more than another week. She'd probably never see those kids again. At least, she hoped she wouldn't. If she had things her way, she'd already be in Overwatch, apart of their ranks and leading the troops off to battle.

Only a few more years. Then she'd be in.

\----

"What do you suppose we do?"

Ana sat in her office, with Jack and Gabriel stood in front of her desk. Jack had his hands down on the desk, while Gabriel stood straight up with his arms across his chest. "What's there to do? Kids'll upload it to whatever social media site they use now. People'll see it. People'll know not to mess with her anymore," Gabriel said, staring down Ana. Ana looked up to meet his stare. "Do you have any idea how hard it will be for her to find friends, then? Did you not hear her in the car? She has no friends, for gods sake!" Jack rose up a hand. "Ana, what did you expect? We go from place to place, and she comes with us. It'd be hard to maintain friendsh-" Ana cut him off, exclaiming, "Don't tell me what I already know, Jack! What do you expect me to do? Send her back to Egypt? Have some damn caretaker be her new mother? It's hard enough worrying about her all the time - sending her away would only further my worries!"

Gabriel looked to Jack, then back to Ana. He shrugged his shoulders. "Well, Ana, I guess you're just gonna' have to take that risk. You said it yourself. She ain't got friends, because it's hard to make them when you're movin' around all the time. Maybe.. sending her back to Egypt wouldn't be such a bad idea." Jack looked to him, raising an eyebrow. He took a second to think about what he said, then looked back to Ana. All he did was nod his head in confirmation. "She would be away from everyone she cares about," Ana quickly retaliated with. "Have you seen the way she looks at Ziegler? What do you think it would do to her to be away from-" This time, it was Jack's turn to cut her off. "In a few years, she'll be graduated and'll probably find someone different. It's a teenage crush, Ana. Besides, Angela's five years older than her - and I think we've _all_ seen the way McCree looks at her. Maybe being away is what she needs. I think you should do it."

Ana thought. She thought and thought and thought. Maybe they were right. Maybe having her away from the Overwatch members would drive her away from wanting to join, to go down the same path she took. After another moment, she spun in her chair so her back was to them both.

"Alright. I'll arrange for someone to take care of her. I hope this is the right call," Ana muttered, only barely loud enough for them to hear. Jack looked to Gabriel, and Gabriel just nodded. He turned to walk out the door, leaving them in the room alone. "I'll go tell her," He said, before he fully left the office. Jack spoke up just after.

"This _is_ the right call, Ana. I know it."

\----

"This is fucking bullshit!" Fareeha shot out, back into another fit of rage. Gabriel held up a hand, saying, "Relax, Fareeha. And watch your language." Fareeha struggled to stand up, despite Angela's wishes. "You can't make me go! I don't even want to go back! I want to stay here!" Gabriel shook his head, leaning back against the door frame. "Yeah, well, talk to your mom. It's her call, Fareeha. Come on. Isn't there even a little part of you that wants to go back, so you can actually make some real friends?"

Admittedly, it was what she wanted - only, she wanted everyone else to go back with her. She knew it wouldn't happen. "Uncle Gabe, please. Please don't make me go back. I-I just want to stay. I have so many friends here. I don't want to leave them. Please, just-" Fareeha found herself at a loss for words, heaving slightly. The emotion began to fill up in her chest, and once he saw that, he quickly brought a hand down to his phone. Without telling her who he was calling, he spoke into his phone. "Yeah, could you come to Fareeha's room? I need you here." A second or two went by, as the other person on the line replied. Gabriel spoke up again. "No, I just - come on, get down here, would you?" He pressed his thumb against the "End Call" button, tucking it away. "Now, come on, kiddo. Don't cry. At least - not yet. You know I ain't ever been good with that."

Fareeha nodded her head and hobbled back over to her bed, sitting down on the edge of it. She dug a hand into her shirt and retrieved the same Egyptian necklace he had gotten her all those years ago. Now, she looked at it with hate - hate for where it came from, hate for what it represented. Gabriel found himself willingly approaching her, with a hand going on her shoulder. "Look. I know you don't wanna' go, but it's best. I know you don't think it - but you know it. It's tough, I know, but in the long run, it'll be worth it. You won't be beatin' up random kids at school, breaking arms and chipping teeth." He let off a quick laugh. Fareeha laughed a bit as well, however painful it was for her. He saw with her, and they stayed in silence for a minute or two. She could've fallen asleep then - but the knocking at the door wasn't exactly the most soothing.

Gabriel sat up, hiding a grin on his face. "I got it," He said, as he approached the door carefully. Once it was pulled open, Fareeha saw Angela standing in the door and immediately felt sick to her stomach. "What is the emergency?" She asked, stepping inside. Gabriel cleared his throat, looking down at his watch. "Did I come off as it was an emergency? Oh, I meant-" He slipped out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

Angela stared at the door in confusion, then looked to Fareeha. "Is something the matter? Why did he call me down here?" Fareeha grabbed a pillow and tucked it against her chest, holding it tightly.

"They're sending me to Egypt. For good," She mustered, shutting her eyes. Angela sighed, approaching her slowly. She sat down on the bed next to her, setting a hand on her shoulder. Though her shirt may have covered it, she could feel the softness of her hand. The immediate warmness it gave off. "I am sorry, Fareeha. I cannot imagine that is so easy for you." Fareeha shook her head, and without a second thought, she leaned her head against Angela's shoulder and shut her eyes tightly. "I don't want to go. I want to stay here with everyone. I want to stay here with you."

At first, Angela didn't think much of it. It was a simple, kind gesture that plenty of people said. Her hand moved from her shoulder and across her back, to hold her opposite shoulder loosely. "I think it will be beneficial. Growing up in an environment like this - it has its negative outcomes, Fareeha. You should focus on your studies. Focus on your life." Fareeha shook her head lightly, burying her face into Angela's shoulder. The emotion from just a bit ago began to form again, this time more evident than before. It hit hard, and her hands went out to hold themselves around Angela's stomach tightly. 

Angela allowed her to cry as loud as she needed to. All she did in response was give a few quiet "shhh's" to try to calm her down, or at least sooth her. She rocked her back lightly, shutting her own eyes.

It went on longer than Fareeha wanted. By the time she stopped, it was only because her body ran out of liquid to dispense. Angela pulled her head back, looking down at Fareeha. "Are you feeling-" Except, Fareeha cut her off quickly, speaking out with a sense of desperation that took over her body. Her words were weak, almost inaudible to anyone a few feet away. They came out so fast, Fareeha barely even registered she said it - but they hit Angela like a freight train.

"I love you."

How could she possibly say that? _Why_ would she even say that? Once she heard herself, Fareeha brought her head back away from Angela's shoulder. Her cheeks flushed, and the color from her face drained. "I, uh-" She stammered, trying to fix her mistake as best she could.

Except, it wasn't a mistake. She meant it, with every bit of her teenage heart. But she couldn't say that. There's no way Angela would ever take her seriously. She was an adult, and Fareeha was only 15. She hated the age difference, because if it wasn't there, she would've definitely tried to make a move by now. She didn't even know if she was for-sure into her. For all she knew, it was just some fling.

Angela tried to fix herself. She stood up and brushed herself down, saying, "I think I should, uhm, be going." Her cheeks went red, but probably out of embarrassment. What could she say to that? 'Oh, I feel the same way,' or, 'Jesus, you freak, you're a teenager.' There'd be no way she could word it properly without some outcome being negative. 

"I-I'm sorry, Angela. Please don't be upset," Said Fareeha, as she tried to sit up again. Angela made her way over to the door, brushing a hand through her hair. "Don't be sorry. I just-" She shook her head. Fareeha spoke up again; however, the desperation in her voice returned. "Will you keep in touch with me while I'm gone?" Angela looked back to her. Her heart beat fast, but her expression softened when she truly heard the pain in her voice. "I will, Fareeha. I promise."

Angela took her leave after that, and after she left, Fareeha returned to her silent crying. She pushed the pain away and focused on her idiocy. It didn't matter. In a day or two, she'd be gone, and she'd probably rarely see Angela for the next few years. Though, she didn't know what scared her most. Not seeing her as much as she used to?

Or the thought of her finding someone else while Fareeha was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter :)
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated.


	3. What's Next

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding herself leaving the members of Overwatch for the time being, Fareeha struggles to cope with her emotions. She's headed back to Egypt to focus on her school, and to grow up in a better environment; however, it wasn't at her own will.

The goodbyes were the hardest part of it all.

No matter how hard she tried, Fareeha couldn't bring herself to leave her room. She hoped they'd forget about her needing to leave, and she'd manage to stay somehow. Three days had gone by since she heard the news of her mother's decision. Each time she thought of it, it brought a painful sensation that ran down to her hands, forcing them to ball up. She was angry. Angrier than she'd ever been in such a long while. How could her mother make such a call without even talking to her?

"I guess it doesn't matter," Fareeha thought aloud. She slowly began to uncurl her hands, reaching for the usual pillow she held whenever she was hysterical. Her arms squeezed around the fabric tightly, to the point where it folded over top her arms. She hunched forward and brought her knees up, pressing them against her body. Once her eyes were closed, she let her mind drift off to some other thought - the thought of how those boys were acting now that they realized just who they decided to toy with. The thoughts filled her mind. She specifically thought about everything she did to them, how she made them howl in pain while they were originally so cocky. She thought of the last boy who was so in fear, he turned away and ran. She thought of how powerful it made her.

Then she remembered Angela's words, and her egotistical mindset immediately fell. "You have never been one to actually use violence in situations. Why now? And why to such a degree?" Her words echoed throughout her mind, beating against her temples, desperately looking for an answer. She found none. The answer she gave Angela first-hand was wrong, and she knew it. Fareeha didn't know why she used such a degree of violence against a group of school-yard bullies. They weren't Omnics. They weren't robbers or murderers. They were just children that resorted to bullying to get their kids.

There were surely far worse people in the worlds.

So why be so aggressive against them? It didn't matter how extensive she looked for an answer; she found none, and was left blank. That was what upset her the most - she had no idea why she used such a degree of force against them. The more she thought about that fight, the more she began to realize it was a hunger set inside her, a hunger that she was desperate to feed. A hunger to fight. A hunger for duty.

She was so lost in thought, she didn't even hear the knocking at her door. It wasn't until she heard a familiar German ask to come in. Fareeha stood from her bed and made her way over to the door, barely opening it up to peak outside. Her eyes were crusted with stained tears, with her face being flushed red. "You can come in," She solemnly answered, turning back towards her bed.

Reinhardt stood in the doorway. He stared Fareeha down as she walked away, but chose to duck his head under the doorway and bring himself inside of her room. He shut the door behind him quietly, and began to lightly step over to her. "Fareeha," Reinhardt called, in a tone that had tones of both compassionate and worry. Fareeha found herself sat on the bed, holding her hand against the bandaging across her ribs. She didn't answer back to Reinhardt, because he was already on his way over to her. Once he sat down next to her, she felt the bed creak with his weight. She was a twig compared to his immense size, and her lanky, miniature body barely even took up a portion of his size. Her arms almost immediately went around his torso, only barely able to fully get them around him. Reinhardt's hand dropped down onto her back, running his fingers up and down her spine.

"I heard," He mumbled. Fareeha shut her eyes, burying her head into his side. "I know what your mother wishes for you, and I believe it is the best choice for you. We all wish the best life for you, Fareeha, and it pains me to admit it - but growing up here is not an ideal decision. You should be growing up with people your own age. People that do not rush into battle and face death more often than others. After the confrontation at your school, we all have begun to worry for you." Fareeha looked back up at him, quickly wiping away the forming tears in her eyes. "So sending me away is the best option? Taking me away from all of you?" Reinhardt only bobbed his head up and down. "Yes, Fareeha. Do you ever stop and wonder why your mother tries to push you away from joining our ranks as persistently as she does? Because she knows how war and death may affect a person. I mean, look at you, little one. I saw the reports of your fight. You broke a boy's arm, broke another's teeth, and made another vomit from hitting him so hard."

His words hit her a bit harder than she expected. She stayed quiet just after that, letting them sink in deep into her soul. Reinhardt knew just what she was thinking. "I know it isn't what you want, but it's the best choice for you. Besides, we will always keep in contact with you. Just because you will not be here does not mean you will never see us again." Fareeha's arms tightened up around his torso. She hissed a quiet pain through her teeth, feeling the agony hit in her ribs. Her bottom lip began to quiver, and her jaw began to shake ever-so-slightly. Her eyes shut tightly. "Reinhardt, I-" Fareeha began, her breath choking up. Reinhardt only continued to run his hand up and down her back, trying his best to sooth her through her emotions. "I know, little one. I know," He chose to say. It was his turn to shut his eyes, knowing that he wouldn't be seeing her as often as he used to. It was a powerful feeling that struck him roughly. As much of a warrior as he was, he, admittedly, had his own sensitive side.

And he always had a softer side for Fareeha, too.

They sat in silence for the next few minutes. It was hard for Fareeha to let go, and even harder for Reinhardt to watch her leave - but they both knew it was the best choice. As much as it pained her to admit it. The silence was ended with Fareeha sniffling and wiping her eyes against Reinhardt's side. She chose to look up to him, eyes filled with emotion. "What if something happens to you all, and I'm not here?" She asked, tilting her head. "Nothing will happen to us, Fareeha. We can take care of ourselves. It is time you start to focus on yourself."

And with that, Fareeha brought her arms back from Reinhardt's side, sitting up on the bed. She ran her hands down her face to wipe away the feelings she had. "Okay," is all she answered in response. Reinhardt was her idle. She always took his words to heart, and always tried to follow-up with them.

So she stood up from the bed and grabbed her suitcase. Reinhardt only watched her; however, he leaned forward and set his elbows on his knees, watching her inquisitively. "Fareeha?" He asked, cocking his head. She didn't reply - instead, she just continued to pack clothes into her suitcase. While she was doing it, she stumbled across a gift she received all those years ago, and held it in her hands. It was the stuffed falcon, with the same note written on it. Fareeha read over each word repeatedly, letting it stain her eyes until it was the only thing she thought of. "To: Fareeha Amari. From: Angela Ziegler. - I hope you enjoy your gift, Fareeha, and have a wonderful birthday."

It was painful to read it. To remember such a fun time, where she hardly had to worry about anything.

She would've given anything to be back at that party.

But she knew she couldn't go back. She knew it was time to start focusing on the future, just as Reinhardt, Gabriel, Jack and her mother have all said. Even if it meant not seeing them for however long. It was time for her to grow up. Fareeha stuffed the falcon into her suitcase and ran the zipper across the side all the way, ensuring that it was fully closed. "I'm ready, Reinhardt," She answered. The handle of the suitcase extended out, and she grabbed onto it.

Reinhardt sat still for another moment, as if he were truly questioning whether or not she was actually prepared to leave or not. Finding he had no answer, he simply stood up next to her, once again towering over her. "Then let us take our leave, Fareeha." He held out his arm. Fareeha locked her free arm around it, holding it close to her. Reinhardt began to walk forward, with Fareeha in tow. The suitcase rolled along behind them. She took once last glance at the room she called hers for so long.

It was almost traumatizing. Reinhardt pulled her along before she could change her mind. He knew that it was a hard thing to deal with, but he couldn't have been prouder to see her man up (or, woman up) and take the initiative.

They walked together until they were outside, where Fareeha saw an air-transport vehicle was ready for her to embark. It was then that Fareeha decided to bring her hand back over to grab onto Reinhardt's. She squeezed it tightly. "You promise you'll call whenever you can?" Fareeha asked. Reinhardt squat down carefully, returning the squeeze of her hand. "I promise. Every chance I get, you will hear from me." She took a quick glimpse around Gibraltar, inhaling through her nose. "Where is everyone else?" She took notice of how his eyes went down to the ground for a moment, then back up to her. "They are out. Jack received word of Omnic forces gathered to the south. I'm sorry, Fareeha. If they were able to be here, they would have been."

He didn't expect her arms to go around his neck. She buried her head into it and held on tightly. "I'm scared, Reinhardt," Fareeha admitted faintly. Reinhardt brought his hands up and set them on her back, returning the tight hold. "I know, Fareeha, but in order to achieve anything in life, you must overcome your fears. For you, that means stepping aboard that ship and returning to Egypt. It may be hard, but I promise you, Fareeha, the end result will be better than you've ever imagined."

It took her a moment, but Fareeha pulled away from him. She wiped her eyes at her sleeve and took hold of her suitcase once again, turning towards the ship's inner holding bay. With another moment of hesitation, and a few words of encouragement from Reinhardt, she took her steps forward and entered the ship. She knew why she didn't say goodbye. Goodbyes were for the end - for never seeing a person again.

And she hated goodbyes.

She watched as Reinhardt gave the universal sign for 'OK' with his fingers, then buckled herself in. The ramp to the ship began to close ever-so-slowly, until the magnetic locks were secured in place. The bay went dark for a moment, but the deployment lights quickly turned that around. It was bright enough for her to see what she was doing, but wasn't as bright as most other lights. It was cold inside, so her arms went around her chest and huddled for warmth.

For the first time, she found herself away from those she knew. She felt alone. She felt scared.

She felt petrified.

Though she may have tried her best to not show it on the outside, on the inside, it was more evident than ever. Her eyes drooped closed. She decided that it was better to sleep off the trip, rather than stay awake and let her thoughts consume her. Except, she couldn't. No matter how hard she tried, Fareeha only found herself at a loss. Her eyes only shut to find herself surrounded by those she loved. It only hurt more to see them, because she knew when she opened her eyes, they weren't going to be there. She knew it wouldn't be too long, anyway. It wasn't far from Gibraltar to Egypt.

Instead, she decided to stay awake, thinking of what she'd do when she landed.

\----

The trip went faster than she thought.

They landed at the Cairo International Airport and disembarked from the ship. The pilot was nice enough to escort her to the parking lots. He stood out like a pear in an apple tree. Most everyone there looked like Fareeha, while - well, the pilot was a bit pasty. Still, most others didn't look twice. The uniform he wore gathered some looks, though. No one knew why an Overwatch pilot landed at the air strip, except for the air-traffic control men. They intended on keeping it a secret that the daughter of Ana Amari was going to be staying in Egypt.

Fareeha noticed that an older lady was waiting by a black-tinted vehicle. It was where she was being led, so she would've only guessed that it was her ride - and possibly the caretaker her mother hired. Once they approached, the woman gave Fareeha a quick wave and gestured to the trunk of the car, saying, "You can put your things in there." She went off to talk to the pilot for a minute. Fareeha took the opportunity to relieve herself of the suitcase, and stuffed it inside of the trunk. She pulled the trunk door down and shut it, then made her way into the front passenger seat. It did have a nice interior, she admitted, admiring the fine leather she sat on. The interior of the car smelled like jasmine, a fine scent that swiftly found itself going through Fareeha's nostrils.

It wasn't long until the pilot made his way back the way they came, and the older lady slid into the driver's seat. "It's nice to meet you," She greeted Fareeha with. All Fareeha did in response was nod her head, seemingly uncooperative with her. "My name is Hasina. Your mother hired me to take care of you while she is away." Fareeha looked to the driver's side, to meet Hasina's glance. "So I guess you already know my name," A grim Fareeha shot back.

Hasina nodded her head, slightly understanding where Fareeha's stern attitude was coming from. "I do. I also understand that this probably isn't very easy for you to overcome. Once we return to the Amari home, I believe you'll find it easier to bear such a misfortune." Admittedly, Fareeha blew off her comment at first. Hasina turned the ignition over and sent the car hovering just a bit above the ground. Fareeha shut her eyes and leaned her head against the window, feeling the vehicle's movement under her. Driving always relaxed her - though, if she had things her way, she would've had one of those motorcycles McCree always spoke about. She knew her mother wouldn't have approved of it, though. She never approved of anything that had even the slightest bit of danger in it. Except fighting. Fighting was the only thing her mother truthfully wanted her daughter to know, and that was only for self-defense.

Fareeha tried not to think of her mother, because it only angered her even more. To think that her mother just sent her away like that - even despite her knowing how close she was with everyone - it upset her to the point where she almost wished Ana wasn't her mother.

She wouldn't have gone that far.

The minutes went by, and Fareeha began to recognize some of the streets they passed. A part of her did miss the heat of Egypt, the sand between her toes, and the overall atmosphere of its environment. She always hated the cold of Switzerland. Gibraltar was good enough. When they eventually pulled up to her house, Fareeha almost immediately recognized it. It wasn't the biggest house, as it only needed to fit two people, but it was big enough to Fareeha. She hadn't been here in so many years. She remembered her mother making Beid Bel Basterma on the weekends - one of her favorite breakfast dishes.

"We're here," Hasina said, interrupting Fareeha's memories. She unlocked the doors and popped the trunk open. Once Hasina was out, Fareeha got out as well, and quickly took notice of how Hasina was pulling her suitcase along for her. "No, I've got it," Fareeha said in an authoritative tone, taking hold of the suitcase's handle. Hasina rose an eyebrow, but eventually caved. She pulled her hand away and let her pull her own suitcase along. The doors to the vehicle locked once again, and the trunk was shut closed. "I've taken the liberty of cleaning up a bit. The place was rather... dusty," Hasina spoke sheepishly, and Fareeha heard it in her voice. "Well, we haven't been here in so long. My mother didn't see a reason to have someone clean it when she knew we would not be living her as often as we used to."

The front door was unlocked by Hasina, and the two made their inside. Almost instantly, memories began to flood into Fareeha's mind - remember her mother waking her up in the morning to such a fantastic smell, or the late night movies they'd watch while cuddled on the couch. Before Overwatch, Fareeha's mind emphasized. That's right. She remembered how everything changed when Overwatch was formed. Before, she remembered how much she saw of her mother. How much they were together. How much she cared.

It almost brought a tear to her eyes.

"Fareeha?" Hasina called, as she peered from the kitchen. "Is everything alright?" She nodded her head a few times, and pulled her suitcase along with her. "Yes. If you don't mind, I think I'm going to stay in my room." Hasina gave her a look of curiosity, mixed with some concern. "Very well. Dinner will be ready in an hour, so wash up and-" She was cut off by Fareeha's door closing. Her arms folded over her chest. "Hmph," quietly came from her, and she returned to her cooking.

Meanwhile, Fareeha was face first on her bed. The room around her bore many familiar details that she remembered. The pink that stained the walls and floor hurt her eyes. She had been so used to Overwatch's blue tint, that she forgot she was even into the color pink. Her pillows were pink, her blanket was pink, and most of the clothes that no longer fit her inside her closet were pink. She never thought she could despise such a color now - but after having been used to blue for so long, she hated it. When she turned her head over, Fareeha almost instantly noticed a picture frame face down on her nightstand. She took it in her right hand and lifted it up.

It was of her mother and her, surrounded by the other members of Overwatch. They all looked so young. Fareeha must have been about eleven or twelve in the photo. It clicked in her head that her mother must have specifically sent it here, knowing she'd eventually come back. "But you didn't come back with me. You sent me here alone," Fareeha muttered, letting the statements slip through her mouth unexpectedly.

She knew that she'd be here with Hasina for however many years it took. She knew her mother wouldn't be able to visit too often, and knew that the rest of her friends would eventually start to move on. But she didn't let that stop her. Fareeha began to devise a plan to keep in contact with her friends. While she knew she'd have trouble doing so, as they were all so busy, she'd at least try to make an attempt. Oh, that's right. She starts school this upcoming Monday. That put a hole in her plans, because she knew school would only make her even busier.

Maybe this was for the best, though. Maybe her mother wanted her to lose contact with her Overwatch friends, so she wouldn't have such a hard time when they died.

Oh, God, that was such an awful thought. Fareeha mentally kicked herself for thinking that. How could she say something like that? They wouldn't die. They were the best of the best, and the Omnic crisis was all but over. She sighed and sat up on her bed, reaching the remote she kept in the first drawer of her nightstand. The television flicked on. It was on some show that talked specifically in Arabic. Fareeha had a bit of trouble recalling what they were saying, since for the majority of her life, she spoke English, and hardly ever had to speak Arabic. She turned the channel onto Atlas news, and immediately recognized the symbol displayed on the screen.

They were talking about Overwatch.

"Reports have come in of another recent Overwatch encounter deep in the Spanish lands. They engaged in conflict with Omnic forces. Casualties have been reported on both military and civilian sides. An Overwatch task force was sent in to rid the area of deadly Omnic units, but they were not able to reach the area in enough time. Many civilians in the area lost their lives, and so far, the body count has reached somewhere in the upward two thousands. The rest have either been evacuated or are still lost in the rubble of the area - first responders have been sent to the scene to rescue all those that are unaccounted for. Overwatch continues to receive backlash for their failed attempt at securing the area in time. Many people even speculate that Overwatch specifically stayed out of the fight for their own agenda. As for now, the group have left to attend a meeting with the United Nations council. We'll keep you updated on the story as more details are revealed. In other news, Helix-"

Fareeha shut off the television. They didn't know what they were talking about, accusing Overwatch of such an agenda. What does that even mean? Why would Overwatch specifically wait for people to lose their lives before they got into the fight?

It didn't matter. She was tired, and after hearing that, she pulled the blanket over her body and shut her eyes. Overwatch was assembled to protect the innocent, not wait for them to die.

And when Fareeha joined them, she'd show everyone just what Overwatch was. She'd show them the heroes that they were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bit slow, and wasn't as long as the others, but that's only because this is one that I wrote to transition to a later part in her life.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed. The next chapter's going to be out pretty soon.


	4. Moving On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fareeha's 18, and her mind's been made up. She's decided to follow her mother's footsteps and join the Egyptian Military, in hopes of being recruited for Overwatch somewhere down the line. For the past 3 years, she's been training for this moment, and nothing could stand in her way of passing basic training.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would've posted this earlier, but I've been busy this weekend with things heating up on the beach. Plus, I've been trying to get some practice in as Ana for the new competitive season in Overwatch. After being only 200 SR away from reaching Diamond, it really irked me that I couldn't get back up there. So anyway, enjoy the chapter - and as always, feedback is greatly appreciated.
> 
> Also, for when Fareeha's in the garage working out and the song changes, here's what plays: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TknY89kECq0
> 
> It's also the song that plays when she's walking to her armed forces career center. Here is it again, so there's no mix-up: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TknY89kECq0

Days went on.

Sometimes, she found herself wondering what her purpose was. Each day was a repeating cycle.

Wake up, shower, brush her teeth, get dressed, go to school for eight hours, come home, work out, eat whatever Hasina made, blare music in her ears, go to bed; repeat.

It was boring, and Fareeha found herself wanting something more. She never bothered to make many friends. While she had some, Fareeha never went the extra mile in doing so. She hit that point in her life where her body took its correct form, and she wasn't as lanky as her 15-year-old self used to be. Now she was toned with defined muscles that fit her features well, mixed with that golden-brown tan the hot Egyptian sun drew on her.

It wasn't a surprise that many men tried to make their moves on her. Though, they didn't know her secret. No one did. She planned to keep it that way, too.

No one had to know she still carried feelings for the famous Doctor Angela Ziegler. They'd probably ridicule her, say she was way out of her mind. Too many people, both men and women, adored Angela. Some others wanted more than just affection. Some lust for her in ways Fareeha hadn't wished she saw. It was disgusting, seeing them pig over her like she was some kind of chew toy - like she wasn't anything less than perfection.

Thinking about Angela made her cheeks grow hot. It had been a while since she actually thought back to her. She tried writing her letters (in this day and age), but Angela never sent any back. She put time and effort into her letters, into the thoughts she poured out onto the paper, and Angela either didn't receive them, or never bothered to write back. The rational part of Fareeha's brain told her that she was too busy saving lives out on the battlefield, performing dangerous surgeries that required the utmost focus, or else the patient wouldn't make it. She was probably just too busy overall, honestly.

It was the irrational part of her brain that won the fight, though. She figured that after she said she was in love with her on that fateful day, she figured Angela just wanted to cut ties with her. It angered her, because she remembered her last words to Angela.

_"I love you," A disheartened Fareeha mumbled._

_"I, uh," Angela replied, fit with shock._

_"I-I'm sorry, Angela. Please don't be upset." Desperation quickly filled Fareeha's voice upon hearing the unsure tone in Angela's._

_"Don't be sorry. I just-" Fareeha watched Angela stand up as she spoke, seeing her head towards the door._

_"Will you keep in touch with me while I'm gone?" Her words almost barely registered in her brain, like her heart took over for a moment._

_"I-I will, Fareeha.. I promise." Just like that, Angela was gone._

The letters stopped being written when she turned seventeen.

But today was another day. She wasn't going to allow her feelings to get down from the thoughts.

No.

Today, she was enlisting in the Egyptian Military. The Army, at that. It was what her mother did, and she was going to do it even better. Not only did Fareeha plan to commit to the Amari legendary status - she planned to break it, to set a new status for upcoming Amari's (if there were any).

She hadn't even realized how long she had been going at it, not until the sweat poured down her forehead and onto the grey tanktop that fit her torso. She was in the middle of bench pressing her daily sets: 5 sets of 10 repetitions of 150 pounds set on a 10 pound bar. She could feel the fire burn through her arms and at her shoulders, and no matter how much it hurt, Fareeha always found herself wanting more. 

Music echoed throughout the Amari garage, helping her get in the groove as she pushed the weight-set up and down. It was tiring, but there was absolutely no way she was going to training without having some exercise in for the day. She already ran for the day, too. Besides, Fareeha knew enough about training to know that the first day was just introductions and getting to your barracks. It wouldn't hurt her to do a bit more today.

By the time she finished and racked the weights, she could hear the song change to one she hadn't heard in such a long while.[1] Fareeha sat up on the bench and took a towel to her forehead, wiping away the sweat that came down. A part of her almost laughed once she fully recognized the song. She let it play while she wiped down the bench. Fareeha didn't even realize how much she was sweating - but it wasn't from her workout. Was she actually nervous? It hit her then, and she could feel the anxiety roll down her spine into every pore of her body. For such a long time, she had been so confident about enlisting, so confident that there was no way she wouldn't fail - but the irrational part of her brain took over once more.

What if she did fail? What if she did so bad, that those who remembered her mother looked down on her? And what if people _only_ compared her to her mother? Like they expected her to be the great new Amari, that went deep into enemy lines and took out important officers where they least expected it?

"Fareeha," She heard, only barely through the thoughts. It took her a moment to register, but as she turned around, she saw Hasina standing in the doorway with her arms folded. Fareeha quickly picked up on the look on her face - one that was mixed with worry and concern.

"You must eat before you leave. You can't show up to training with an empty stomach." Fareeha nodded her head and shut off the music, letting the towel hang around her neck carefully. "You're right," Fareeha added. She rose to her feet and stretched her arms out. She hadn't realized how excited she was to actually be moving on from her normal every day life of a repeating cycle. She wanted to be out there, protecting the people that needed it most. Especially after a rise in Talon forces moving into Egypt.

She blew off the thought. All she wanted right then and there was whatever Hasina cooked up for her. Whatever it was, it smelled good - and Fareeha could hardly resist digging into it.

When she laid eyes on it, it was better than she thought it would've been. Hasina prepared a dish filled with Kushari, another one of Fareeha's favorites. The aroma of rice, macaroni, lentils, and topped with tomato sauce, garlic vinegar, crispy fried onions and chickpeas made the corners of her mouth water. Her plate was already filled, and the utensils were laid out with a glass of water. When Fareeha looked to Hasina, she only gave a dismissing hand. "It's your last meal in this house for a while. I thought it best to feed you well before you leave. Give you one last happy memory before you embark on a path to war."

Fareeha felt her mouth slant down. "Hasina, I do it because-" but she was cut off in the middle of it. "I know. The Amari legacy." Fareeha was quick to reply, probably quicker than she really imagined. "No, Hasina. I do it because someone has to. I wish to join because of Talon and what they do - to stop the evils of this world from hurting those that don't deserve it." She didn't realize how defensive she was. Maybe it was because Fareeha didn't like someone thinking the only reason she planned to join was because of "the Amari legacy." Never-the-less, Hasina simply shook her head and gestured to Fareeha's seat. "Sit. Eat, before you leave."

And she did. She sat down without another word. It was probably best not to keep talking about the subject, because as Hasina said, she did need one last happy memory before she left. She dug into the meal carefully, wanting not to destroy the beauty food that was prepared for her.

Her stomach had other ideas, though. She didn't realize how hungry she actually was, but when Fareeha finished her plate faster than normal, Hasina only set down another spoonful of the dish. "All that work and it's easy to forget to feed yourself. Keep eating." While she wasn't as demanding as her mother was, when Hasina wanted something done, she made it relatively clear. Fareeha kept eating, but she could feel the judgmental eyes staring into her skull. By the time she stopped eating and looked up, Hasina's expression softened up. "I just want you to be careful. Your mother sent you back here in hopes that you'd change your mind of going down this path, but it seems she was wrong to think you weren't going to follow her." Before Fareeha could speak up, Hasina continued talking. "I used to take care of her while her parents were away at war. When they - when they passed away, it left your mother heart-broken. Yet, she still went to war. Still did exactly what they did. I won't ever understand why your family is bred to fight, and I don't want to, because all of you go out there and risk your lives and never think of your future. You say it's because 'someone has to' but why does it have to be you?"

Fareeha felt her throat choke up. She couldn't answer her properly just then, but she really tried to. "Well, I-" She managed to get out. She pushed her plate forward and wiped at her mouth with a napkin. "I would say it _is_ because we have to. During the Omnic Crisis, my mother saved countless lives by herself, _and_ with Overwatch. Because of her, people are alive that otherwise wouldn't be. I mean - Hasina, people thank her everywhere she goes. They thank her for saving their lives or for just being who she is. The Amari legacy exists for a reason, and I don't want to be the one that breaks it. I'd rather be the one that sets a higher standard for it."

She watched as Hasina intently listened to her words. She took in every last detail to the T, and when Fareeha stopped, she held up an open hand. "You're right. I just hate to see you all throw yourselves into war, like you think you're immediately ready to die." Fareeha shook her head. "No, Hasina. We are ready to fight for what we believe in, not to die."

Though she may not have completely agreed, Hasina defeatedly nodded her head. "Very well. I know I can't change your mind on this. You should get packed to go." Fareeha could almost hear the emotional tone in her voice. It pained her, but she was right. Her mind _was_ already made up. "Excuse me," Fareeha muttered, as she rose from her seat and strode back to her bedroom.

Most of her bag was already packed and ready to go. She threw on a charcoal leather jacket and straightened her hair out, but also made sure the beads in her hair weren't messed up. All-in-all, she wanted to look as best she could to her sergeants. First impressions matter to her - at least, they did to people that were important. The rest of her appearance looked fine - cargo pants that had a bit of bag to them, brown combat-boots that fit her feet tight, the grey tank top she used when she worked out, and the same leather jacket to cover up most of her torso. The nervousness from before returned, but a bit heavier than earlier. In just an hour or so, she was going to be going through basic training. Today was the day her papers said, at the least. When she gathered up her duffle bag and went towards the door, a part of her hesitated. Thoughts jumbled through her head.

_"Maybe Hasina's right? Maybe I shouldn't enlist. Maybe I should focus on my future, get a degree and-"_

But she knew it was the irrational part of her brain. She wasn't going to let it mess her up now - not after all her waiting. Fareeha felt confident; she felt ready. She pulled her bedroom door open and walked into the living room of the Amari home. Hasina was on the couch, watching an Atlas news report centered on Talon forces. She shook her head, and was taken back when she felt Fareeha's arms go around her chest. "You didn't think I'd leave without saying goodbye, did you?" Hasina could hear the taunting bit in Fareeha's voice, and it caused emotion to fill her closed eyelids. "Your mother didn't. She was so enthusiastic about leaving that-" Fareeha cut her off with a quick peck to the top of her head.

"I'm not my mother," She murmured. Her arms went back and she stood up straight. Hasina did the same, wiping her eyes with the bottom of her hands. "I know you're not. I just fear you'll end up like her. Always working, never relaxing. Never have time to call or write." Fareeha back-pedaled to the door, so she could maintain eye-contact with the older woman. "Well, I promise: the first chance I get, I'll call. If I get a chance, I mean. I don't know how busy I'll be, but I swear - the _second_ -" Hasina waved her hand. Fareeha gave a grin and ran up to her swiftly, hugging her tightly. "Thank you. For everything, Hasina. Really." She felt Hasina's hands go up to her back, lightly rubbing up and down her spine. "You don't have to thank me, child. Just take care of yourself out there. Take care of the evil out in the world." Fareeha was first to pull back from their embrace. 

"I will." Fareeha turned back toward the door and made her way to it, pulling it open. The heat of Egypt was quick to bear down on her, emitting onto her clothes and skin. If she wasn't so used to it by now, she'd definitely be sweating. She could hear Hasina walking toward her - then stopped, probably in the doorway. She didn't know, and didn't bother to look back, either. Fareeha hated goodbyes.

Goodbyes were for the end. She knew it wouldn't be the end with Hasina.

So she didn't look back, didn't say goodbye - no, Fareeha kept walking. She promised Hasina that she'd call her the second she could, and that's what she planned to do. After digging around in her pocket for a moment, she pulled out a loosely tied set of earbuds and pushed them into her ears. After skipping through a few songs, she finally went back to the one that previously played in the garage.[2] It fit the moment - at least, to her it did.

Each lyric rattled her mind, and soon enough, she found herself zoning out while she walked. Today was one of the most important days of her life, and she'd never been more nervous.

But she could do it. Fareeha knew she could.

\----

Darkness filled the night sky. Light pollution kept the stars hidden from everyone. It was sad not being able to see their beauty, but by now, most everyone accepted it. Fareeha couldn't remember the last time she saw the sky for what it really was.

Maybe she'd get lucky. Maybe she'd get deployed somewhere in Egypt that wasn't littered with street lamps and city lights. It'd be a blessing to be there, to see the beauty for all its worth.

She'd been lost in her thoughts for so long, Fareeha didn't even realize how close she actually was to her destination. She'd been walking for the past hour - it was intentional, of course. She didn't want to be in some car and miss out on moments like this. It was almost peaceful, if you drowned out the occasional honking and cars passing her. She was so relaxed, she didn't even hear the quiet _zip_ that came up behind her. Not until something - or, actually, someone jumped onto her back and latched their arms around her neck, just like a monkey.

"Hiya, love!"

The voice was clearly distinguishable. While Fareeha didn't like being held like that, she certainly wasn't going to put up a fight. "Tracer? What are you doing here?" Fareeha tilted her head back to look at the woman held onto her. She felt her cheek go down onto Fareeha's shoulder. "Weeeell, a few of us got deployed here 'cause Talon's here, and if I knew anything about you, you're just like your mum. She told me way back when that she joined up when she turned eighteen, an', c'mon, love - you're just like your mum! I mean, jeez, you look _jus'_ like 'er! How long's it been, anyway?"

Fareeha waited for her to hop down off her back, but she didn't. A silent sigh came out of her nose and she kept walking. "Three years, give or take." Lena's eyebrows went up, as if she were shocked to hear the words come out of her mouth. "Three years? Quit playin', it hasn't been _that_ long, has it?" Fareeha only nodded her head. "It's been three years. I was fifteen when I left, now I'm eighteen. Eighteen minus fifteen is-" 

"Oi, I get it. I jus' didn't think time went by that fast. Maybe it's this chronal accelerator. Maybe it's messin' up, yeah?" Fareeha shook her head. She stopped in her tracks once they got a block or two away from the career center. "How are things with Overwatch? I only hear the negatives in the news. Or, at least, their take on what you all do." She saw the upbeat smile Lena wore slant downward. 

"Well, Jack 'n Gabe still don't like each other all too much. Your mum 'n Angela's been tryin' to keep them under control, but there's only so much the two of 'em can do, you know?" Lena slid down her back and plopped to the ground, then zipped in front of Fareeha. "Truth-be-told, I dunno' if Overwatch's got much of a future. People've been riotin' outside our Watchpoints 'n the HQ itself. I guess people just don't see the good we do anymore, ya' know?"

Fareeha shrugged it off. "Overwatch will last. It has to. If not, there wouldn't be anyone to defend the people if more Omnics fought back. The United Nations employed Overwatch for a reason, Tracer." Lena was quick to speak up again. "'Ey, quit callin' me that. Tracer's just my call-sign." Fareeha reluctantly sighed. She ran a hand through her hair and took a glance to the career center, then glanced back to Lena. "Sorry, Lena." After Fareeha unslung her duffle bag, she set it down next to her and took a seat on the concrete. Lena plopped down next to her, but sat in a criss-cross position. "Could I ask you something?" Fareeha asked, rubbing a hand around her opposite shoulder.

Lena nodded her head and had a goofy-looking grin on her face that made it hard for Fareeha to ask the question seriously. "When you - when you came out, what was it like?" Fareeha watched as Lena's eyebrows went up again. She shrugged her shoulders and set a hand on Fareeha's shoulder. "Somethin' you're not tellin' us, love?" 

Fareeha shook her head. Her cheeks went a light red, obviously trying to push the question away. Lena hesitated, but spoke up despite her question not being answered. She thought it to be common courtesy to answer first. "Well, when I came out, I guess there was a lotta' shock. I don't really think anyone saw it coming, you know? Some folks were upset, but I don't think too many people _actually_ cared about it. Nobody in Overwatch really thought twice. I mean, Angela even bet on it!" That got a minuscule laugh out of Fareeha. Lena could tell something was up with her. "You know, Fareeha, you don't gotta' say anything if you don't wanna'. Besides, most of us all saw how ya' looked at Angela. You practically drooled over her." This time, it was Fareeha's turn to raise her eyebrows.

"I hardly looked at Angela. She was my friend, at most." Lena could almost taste the denial in her voice. "You keep tellin' yourself that, Fareeha. Now, c'mon." Lena stood up and out-stretched a hand to Fareeha, who took it carefully. She pulled herself up and dusted off her pants, then wrung her hand around the bag's straps. She threw it over her shoulder carefully. "You've got a military to join. Your mum's not too happy about you joinin', but the rest of us couldn't be more thrilled. Who knows, maybe you'll be just like Ana - be that quiet sniper that goes behind all the baddies. Then maybe Overwatch'll pick you up, if we're still around."

Fareeha brought her arms out and wrapped them around Lena's torso, whom more than happily returned it - a bit tighter than Fareeha expected, too. "Take care of yourself out there. It ain't as easy as you think it might be. Killin' people's always the hardest, so just hope you only go up against bad Omnics. An' please, try to tell the difference between the bad ones and the good ones. They're not all bad." Fareeha pulled away from the hug, patting her hand against Lena's back. "I will. Say hello to everyone for me, please." Once they broke apart, Lena spoke up in response. "You know I will. I'll catch ya' later, yeah? Can't be gone for too long. Jack's been real sticky about that." Fareeha watched her give a two-fingered salute, then zip away to the opposite side of the street - then, in an instant, she was gone.

Fareeha barely had time to register that she left so fast. She knelt down and dug into her bag for a moment, just to look over the contents inside it - or, something specific more like it. It took her a moment, mainly because she had filled her bag to the near brim, but she found exactly what it was.

The stuffed falcon Angela gave her all those years ago. She always kept it close, no matter what. One thought rattled through her mind, though. If her sergeants saw this, she'd for-sure be ridiculed by them. An Amari carrying around a stuffed animal? An easy target to be preyed on. It took all she had in her to not go back to her house right now and put it up, and she didn't. Instead, she stuffed it back inside the bag, fixed up the mess she made and zipped it back up. Fareeha grabbed her bag and made her way toward the career center, and once she arrived, she entered the building with a newfound confidence. People were counting on her. She wasn't about to let them down, either. Before she could take in her surroundings, she was almost instantly greeted.

"Ah, Miss Amari. We've been expecting your arrival. Come - your bus is about to head out." When she followed the male sergeant, she saw him turn back for a moment. "It's good to have another Amari signing up. We need more of them." A smirk tugged its way across Fareeha's lips. They made their way to the back of the facility, where other trainees were already loaded on a bus with their own bags. Most had duffles, but Fareeha picked out one or two that carried backpacks with them instead.

She found her seat in the middle of the bus. It might not have been the window seat, but she couldn't care less.

Fareeha was going to show these men and women just what the Amari name meant to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd expect another chapter to be out relatively soon. I know I said that for this one, but I doubt I'll be busy this week, so it'll be easy for me to write.


	5. Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Fareeha earns a name for herself in the Egyptian Army, members of Overwatch begin to question if they should add another Amari into their ranks. Ana tries to convince them otherwise. Angela tries to fix things with Fareeha, but is unsure if whether or not Fareeha even wants to speak with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before anyone freaks out at the word "snigger" that's written somewhere in this chapter, please use this as a reference:  
> snig·ger  
> ˈsniɡər/  
> verb  
> 1.  
> give a smothered or half-suppressed laugh.
> 
> It's not a racial term, I promise lol
> 
> Anyway, sorry for this taking so long. Turns out, I actually _was_ pretty busy this week. Didn't think I would be. Mom's birthday was this week, plus mine's coming up here soon, too. Planning spring break as well, so this week's kind of been chaotic. Here's a chapter to make up for that. 
> 
> This one's kind of centered on Angela, to put some light on her as a character more.
> 
> Hopefully you guys enjoy it.

"Absolutely not."

Ana's reaction was typical. Jack already saw it coming - but the truth was out. Another Amari was defying all expectation in Egypt. Knowing what Ana could do, Fareeha probably did it just as well.

"Would you just listen to me? She doesn't have to be on the front lines, but having another Amari here might gain us a better reputation. Do you think people've forgotten what you've done? People look up to you, and these younger kids need another inspiration. Seeing Fareeha on some poster with some propaganda could do the trick." Jack's argument did make sense to Ana, but the thought of her daughter being surrounded by this environment again didn't sit well with her. She sent her away for a reason.

Then again, Fareeha wasn't in school anymore. She was an adult, capable of making her own decisions. And, while she may not have told anyone, Ana did truthfully miss talking to her daughter on the daily, instead of a monthly letter that looked poorly written in Arabic. She knew Hasina well enough to know that it wasn't her handwriting, and was thankful that Fareeha actually took the time to write the letters. Other than that, she didn't get much else - aside from the occasional photograph taped to the letter during some holiday. 

"Jack, I can't," Ana finally spat out. "I can't have her back here. She has probably just gotten over not being here, so bringing her back would only cause her violence to come back to her mind." 

Jack almost laughed at that. He shook his head and walked over to his desk, removing a holographic tablet. He tossed it onto the table. "You think so?" He asked rhetorically. After a few taps to the screen, a news report came up, with Fareeha proudly displayed on it.

Ana almost gasped. The picture itself was one of her worst fears. 

Fareeha was there, dressed in a desert camouflaged battle dress uniform. In her right hand, she held up a ballistic rifle; a grin was plastered on her face. Behind her lay a multitude of Talon bodies, all purposefully laid out so the gore didn't show - but it was certainly there. Blood stained the sand under them. People knew they were dead. Under her picture, a message was written in Arabic, and roughly translated into English, it read: _"Amari Daughter Restores Peace to Tanis."_

Ana could feel the tears swell in her eyes. She saw a younger version of herself. The features were distinctly similar, and it hurt to see them. Without another word, she looked up to Jack expectantly. He practically read her mind.

"I showed you this because I wanted you to see what she's become. She's become you, Ana. I mean, shit, look at it. At the rate she's working at, I wouldn't put it past her to be an officer soon. The Egyptian Army and its people love her. Do you know why?" Jack knew Ana wouldn't answer again. He shut off the tablet and pushed it away, then leaned forward on the table with his hands clasped together. "She's a beacon of hope. Even after the Omnic Crisis, people still live in fear. They're scared that Omnics are going to rise up again. They're scared that maybe Talon's going to have a hand in sparking something like that. Seeing her out there, fighting for them - it gives them hope. A hope they haven't felt since Overwatch was first formed."

Ana knew he was right. Even she was often praised by people for what she did. People looked up to her, and she knew they would do the same for Fareeha. Even still, she couldn't bear the thought of her daughter getting shot - or worse, dying in combat. Her thoughts were interrupted by Jack again.

"We're past our time, Ana. We've gotten old. Some people are starting to forget about us. They need something knew, something fresh. They need _someone_ other than us. Even if she doesn't join Overwatch, they're going to make her into a puppet. She'll have someone breathing down her neck about everything she says. It's past us to try and change that for her, Ana. She's chosen what she wants. I just think that, you know - maybe if we were to grab her before anyone else does, thinks will be a bit easier on her."

"No," Ana quickly retaliated. "No, Jack. I don't want her here. If she stays in Egypt, she'll be fine. She won't have to go to Russia and fight there, or go to some other country that isn't native to her. I would rather she spend her time forging a bond with the people there, instead of constantly being on the move. She would be safer there. That is what I want for her now. To just be safe." She hesitated after that, realizing how authoritative she spoke in. It wasn't until Jack opened his mouth to say something else that she piped up with, "I'll see myself out."

Jack shut his mouth just as quickly as he opened it. He watched as she left his office in a hurried manner. While he knew she didn't want Fareeha to be apart of Overwatch, he also figured that she knew Jack was right. There wasn't anyway to avoid it. Fareeha was quickly becoming more and more like her mother as each day went by, and before he knew it, she'd probably have that same tattoo under her eye. He never understood what it meant. Something about protecting.

It wasn't his business, anyway. He opened up the holographic page and silently read through the article, thinking heavily on Ana's words.

Fareeha was definitely a warrior. Ana just didn't want to accept it.

\----

"You need to stop getting shot. Each time you do, it weakens your body. The myth of 'what does not kill you makes you stronger' is false."

Gabriel hated going to the medical ward. He liked Angela, but the lecture she'd give him each time he visited wasn't worth it. This time, she was sewing up his shoulder - more specifically, the exit wound of a ballistic firearm. "I'll tell you what, you go tell Talon that, see what they say. I'm sure with your convincing, they'll never shoot me again." He heard Angela snigger behind him. The painkillers she gave him numbed his shoulder, but each time that damn pin went through his shoulder, he winced in pain. 

"Stop being such a baby. Ana handles this better than you do." Angela felt him tense up. "Relax. I was just teasing you." Even despite Angela's reassurance, Gabriel remained the same. Ana was apparently a touchy subject with him; Angela didn't know why. She never bothered to ask. It wasn't her business, so there wasn't a need to ask. It did make her grow more curious, though.

"I'm handlin' it well. Not my fault it hurts like shit. You ever been shot, doc'?" Gabriel asked with a tone that had a clear hint of sarcasm in it. He knew she hadn't been shot yet. Angela had been shot _at_ before, but never directly hit. "Well, no, I have not. The painkillers I gave you should be working, though. Truthfully, I didn't think you would even feel this." Gabriel shrugged it off. He was used to pain by now. It was a part of his job to be shot occasionally.

"You hear about Fareeha? Jack showed me somethin' earlier. Apparently, Egypt's using her as some kind of propaganda machine. You know, seein' as she's an Amari. I think it's pretty sweet to see her all like that." Gabriel turned his head back to look at Angela, who's eyebrows were risen up in curiousity. "Are they, now? That is not surprising. I remember them using Ana for the same purpose. People see hope in them," Angela replied, wiping a final sterilized alcohol pad against the now-sutured wound on Gabriel. She brushed away the bits of blood that crusted on him. "I hope she's doing well, though. I always thought that Fareeha never liked crowds."

Gabriel dismissingly waved his hand. "She's fine. She'd have said somethin' by now, if she wasn't." He stood up from the examination table and slid on his leather jacket. Angela removed her nitrile gloves and tossed them away into her disposal bin, watching Gabriel as he made his way to the door. "Come back if the pain refuses to go away. I'll have to take another look at it then." Gabriel nodded his head once, pulling the door open. "Thanks for takin' care of me, doc'. You're a real life saver."

Gabriel was never one for emotions, so Angela took his thanks gratefully. Once he shut the door behind him, she made her way into another room that was behind yet another door, that looked almost like an office - if you took away the fact that her bed was in there as well. She looked down at her outfit and sighed. Scrubs were never her favorite thing to wear, but at least they were partially comfortable. Besides, it helped her remember her time before, in Switzerland. Times were much simpler then. She never had to go into combat, never had to watch her friends die.

But things change. Angela knew that. She knew it and accepted it. Things happened; things she couldn't stop.

She always hated thinking about it. To get her mind off of a subject like that, Angela turned to her tablet and peered through some of the recent news articles - or, more specifically, the one that Gabriel mentioned. To see Fareeha grown up like that, to be an icon for an entire army already, Angela certainly felt pride. She felt pride in knowing that Fareeha grew up to be such an icon, when all those years ago she wasn't sure what she wanted, other than to join Overwatch.

Though, one specific line caught her attention. Angela read it thoroughly, just to make sure she was seeing it correctly.

_"Talon Forces Grow in Number Outside Banha."_

The article expanded further. Concern swept over Angela as she read the casualty reports. Seeing the number of people injured in the conflicts made her uneasy. For all this time, she'd been used to going out and helping people, but now that Overwatch was being perceived as a negative factor to the public, they didn't go out as much as they used to. It upset her, knowing she couldn't do as much as she used to.

Maybe it was her time to go solo. Go off and do her own thing.

Go off without Overwatch.

The thought brought her discomfort. For years, Overwatch was her family. For years, they were the ones that kept her fed, sheltered and kept her doing what she loved most. But times were different. Overwatch wasn't what it used to be. Angela could barely even recall a period of time where Jack and Gabriel weren't at each others' throats, or when things didn't look like a bloody civil war. She missed the times where everyone could sit around and laugh.

A sigh escaped her mouth as she lazily read through the article. After a bit, Angela stumbled across a video titled: _"Exclusive Interview With Sergeant Fareeha Amari." _She almost immediately hit play, without even a moment's hesitation. Within a second or two, the video buffered and loaded, showing an Atlas News intro that panned onto Fareeha, dressed in her desert camouflage ACU's. Angela plugged in a set of earbuds and fit them in her ears, laid out on her belly with her knees bent up, so her feet were in the air. The audio began to play.__

_"Good evening. I'm Scott Hemsworth, and today I'm joined by Fareeha Amari, a sergeant in the Egyptian Army. She's here to tell us what life's like out on the front lines, liberating the people affected by Talon's evil grasp. Sergeant Amari, could you possibly tell us what it felt like when you realized Tanis was rid of Talon forces?"_

_"Well, Scott, you cannot put all of the glory in my spotlight. The men and women under my command are the ones that deserve it. I simply helped lead them in the right direction. As for your question, though, it felt good to know that Talon does not have such a hard hold on the areas. To see them in Egypt breaks my heart. For something so evil to make its way into my beautiful country - our beautiful country - it felt like a piece of my soul had been ripped out of my body and torn apart. Fighting back against them, and to win the fight, felt exhilarating. I only wished more had the same beliefs I did."_

_"You want more people to enlist, is that right? Why is that?_

_"Because if our military force decreases in size, Scott, more corporations like Talon will continuously find their way into our homelands."_

_"An interesting point. Is that why you enlisted, Sergeant Amari? To fight against people like Talon?"_

A moment of silence caught wind within the interview room. Fareeha's eyes noticeably went down to the floor for a moment, but then locked back on to Scott's own. 

_"I signed up to protect the people I care about. To protect the people I love - to protect the innocent. Whomever or whatever that stands in my way of that will fall, like those that have before. My mother once told me that nothing can be achieved without sacrifice, and I intend to sacrifice my own safety for the safety of others."_

_"That's quite a note. We have to take a break, but when we come back, Janet Haines will be going over more about Overwatch - are they really as courageous as they seem? Find out more when we come back."_

Angela saw the stink-eye on Fareeha's face when the camera faded to black.

She hated the way the news reporter put Overwatch in the spotlight. Angela did, too. For all the honest work they've done, it seems as if it's just being discarded by the public. Never-the-less, Angela blew a puff of air out of her nose and sat up on her bed, undecided on something. She thought for a period of time, then took her phone and began to look through her contacts. Her thumb scrolled down to the 'F' section of her contact list, and ran over the name "Fareeha", wondering if the number was even still active or not. Ana had given her Fareeha's number about two years ago, and knowing Fareeha, she probably didn't have much of a reason to change phones.

So, with a nervous breath, Angela pressed the call button and put it up to her ear. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip carefully - a nervous habit that she hadn't gotten around to stopping. When the phone began to ring, a wave of relief washed over her, knowing that the number still existed. Each second seemed like a minute to Angela, but she still waited for someone to pick up.

When the other line did pick up, however, Angela's ear was greeted by rifle fire. She jumped at the gunshots and almost tossed her phone away, but a faint "Hello?" drew her back to the call. Angela took in a deep breath, upon hearing the shots grow quieter. She hadn't realized how long she went without talking, but when Fareeha spoke again, an agitated tone found itself on her words. "Who is this? How did you get this number?"

"Fareeha? It's, uhm - it's me, Angela. You know, from Overwatch?" Of course Fareeha remembered her. Angela questioned why she even gave the clarification. Fareeha was quick to reply, quicker than Angela really anticipated. She expected some kind dramatic pause, like how the movies are. "Oh, hello, Angela. How are you?" Fareeha's tone set a new wave of dismay into Angela's heart. She sounded so casual, like they hadn't gone the past few years without talking to each other once. Like Angela hadn't written back to her. Like Angela _didn't_ take notice of how Fareeha's letters stopped coming.

"I wanted to check on you. I saw your interview. You looked really nice." Stupid. _Stupid._ Was that all she could've said? That she looked nice? Fareeha certainly didn't need Angela to tell her that. And because of that, Angela felt the confidence drain from herself. Their last encounter had been so long ago, and she promised to call - and never did. Oh, God, she was freaking out. Fareeha wasn't. Fareeha replied almost as casually as she originally did. "Thank you. The Army spiffed me up and put me on live television. If you promise to keep this between us, most of what I said was not written by me, but rather by the ones above me." She heard Fareeha give a laugh, and instinctively, Angela laughed as well. It was a laugh that came natural, and for so long, there were only few that could get those out of her.

"What did you think of that reporter? I personally think he was a tool. The way he spat on the name of Overwatch and what it stood for. I didn't stick around for too long after the commercials went live." Angela immediately recognized that a part of Fareeha was truly upset over what the reporter said. "I know. I saw the look on your face when the camera panned out. You looked like you were just told that you were being flown back to Egypt." Angela gave off a quiet giggle.

Fareeha didn't. If Angela could have seen Fareeha at that point, she would have seen her eyes shut and the color darken on her face. "Well, I don't know about that. I may have been upset, but I certainly wasn't _that_ upset." Angela caught on. She realized her quip wasn't too funny. "Fareeha, I, uhm.. I wanted to apologize, mainly. For not ever writing back or calling. I simply never-" Fareeha cut her off. She couldn't tell if she did it because she was upset, or if she just didn't want to hear her apologize. "It's okay. I understand. You are busy there, saving lives. I cannot ask anything of you because of that. Is that the only reason you called?"

Angela was going to hate herself for this: "No, actually. I called because I.. need your advice with something. I am unsure if the others would give me a truthful answer. I have been wondering about Overwatch, and my place within. I see violence in Egypt on the news, and yet, Overwatch does nothing. Perhaps my services would be better required there, rather than here? What do you think?"

Fareeha thought long and hard about what she was going to say. In her heart, she begged herself to agree; however, her brain said otherwise. Overwatch had the stabilization Angela needed. Egypt did not. Egypt, to Fareeha, was on the brink of _de_ stabilization, and Angela needed to be somewhere that could keep up with what she needs.

"I think you should stay with Overwatch. Egypt will do well on its own. They need you there, more than ever with these newfound challenges. As much as I would love for you to come here, you and I both know that you are one of the few left that keep things running. And if I plan to join later on, I will need there to actually _be_ an Overwatch. So stay there, continue to do what you do. Let me handle Egypt." Fareeha spoke so confidently, so authoritative. Angela could almost feel the leadership developing in her. Even after them not speaking for so long, Angela could picture her right then, talking like they used to.

"I miss you."

Oh, _God_ , that shouldn't have come out. Angela didn't even mean for it to. It just.. slipped out. She felt her heartbeat spike up, like it was about to burst out of her chest. She was quick to follow up with: "Like, I do miss our talks. It was nice at the end of a long, stressful day. I'm sorry we fell out of contact for so long." Hopefully Fareeha didn't think much of her mistake.

Was it a mistake, though? She _did_ miss Fareeha, but in a more friend-to-friend kind of way.

Her heart thought it differently.

"Well," Fareeha began, thankfully not following up on Angela's problem. "Like I said, don't worry about it. I have missed you too. Our talks were nice, but things change. I wouldn't dwell too much on the past. There's always the future to continue our talks. Unfortunately, Angela, I do have to go. I'm needed back on the range. Perhaps maybe one day you could come to visit?"

That did it for Angela. She felt a breath lodge itself in her throat tightly. Once she calmed down a bit, though, she answered her with a more confident: "Yes, of course. That sounds wonderful. I'd love to come visit you, Fareeha. See what life is like in Egypt for a day or two, or maybe even three, if I'm granted the leave. But let me not keep you. It was fantastic to talk to you again, Fareeha." Angela could hardly contain the grin that crept onto her mouth. The call went exceptionally well. Fareeha wasn't mad, upset, or anything - she _wanted_ to see Angela again. 

"It was nice speaking with you, too, Angela. I, uh - goodbye." While the disconnection may have been abrupt, Angela believed it to be because of how Fareeha was never good with goodbyes, but to her, things couldn't have gone better. She knew Fareeha wanted to see her again. She knew that she felt good about things. And she knew that she'd have to ask for some leave time later on.

Maybe things wouldn't be so bad. For so long, Angela had been confined to Overwatch's various bases. It had been so long since she was out in the field, that a part of her almost missed it. Almost missed going out into the dangerous bits of combat to save lives. The adrenaline certainly gave her a high, though, however worthless it was. Fighting was never her thing, but it gave her a purpose.

Angela questioned why she was even so worked up about a simple talk with Fareeha. When she set her phone down, she fought back the urge to pick it back up and call her again, just to talk to her another time. Why? Why did a simple talk to her turn Angela into a mushy pile of goo? Whatever the answer was, Angela didn't understand. She didn't understand how just _one_ person could have such an effect on her like that. 

Maybe that's what she was lacking in. Actual friends. She had Lena and Winston. McCree was kind of a wild card. Gabriel and Jack were always fighting, so she stayed away from them when she could. Ana was hardly ever around anymore. Maybe Torbjörn was an option? She couldn't even remember the last time she actually sat down with him. They always got along, but were never really.. close. Whatever the reason may have been, she was determined to change things up. One step at a time.

Fareeha was the first step in that. It was time to ask for a shore-leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh christ sorry for this taking so long
> 
> its currently like 2 am right now but i was determined to get this out tonightttt
> 
> sorry for this one taking so long even though its kind of boring


	6. Combat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things take a different approach as Fareeha goes to war. Her squad of soldiers encounter resistance in Egypt. They're tasked with finding out what Talon is up to down south, then pull the hell out so the larger combat teams can move in and eliminate them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Microsoft Word spacing is apparently much different from this site's. I didn't think the lines would appear so spaced. Hope that doesn't bother anyone. (if anyone reads this anyway lol)
> 
> I took a bit of a break unintentionally. I forgot I was writing this. I decided I wanted to get back into writing, and I spontaneously remembered that I was in the process of writing this story.
> 
> I can't promise I'll upload anything at a fix rate or schedule. I wrote this over the course of two days, but I felt genuinely motivated to start writing again. If people are interested, I'll write much more often if I can, but even if people aren't, I'll probably keep writing it. 
> 
> I should also mention that this probably isn't what some people are looking to read. This chapter isn't all too cute, but I tried to make it as easy to read as possible for the people that don't enjoy reading about live-fire combat. Sorry in advance if someone doesn't like it.
> 
> also kudos to the people for their comments. it made my day reading them, even though i blatantly lied and said i had so many ideas i wanted to write about to budgiebum.  
> whoops
> 
> Anyway, here's Wonderwall.

* * *

Egyptian heat is something that isn’t so easily forgotten about.

4 kilometers away was the remote village of Awlad Elias, a village that housed no more than around 30,000 people. The sun was directly above Fareeha and her platoon, and without a cloud in the sky, its true power only came out even further. 

The heat began to play tricks on her. Even though she was a native to the land, it still found ways to toy with her vision and make her believe she were seeing things in the distance. A quick glance through the scope of her Maadi-3 rifle proved her wrong.

“Sergeant Amari! What exactly are we expecting there?”

The question snapped Fareeha out of her distinct focus. She looked to her left, eyeing the RG-32’s driver. 

“Hotel Actual said word came in that Talon forces were spotted setting up camp just outside Awlad Elies. So, I would expect people that won’t be playing nice, Soliman.”

A rock in the road sent everyone up in their seats, landing back down in their chairs. Fareeha steadied her rifle against the vehicles windowsill. The RG-32’s gunner, Private Naser, cursed. His .50 caliber machine gun steadied once again. Her eyes went back out to the scout car’s 3 o’clock.

“You know, Amari, that interview you did really didn’t help much. You sounded really moto – almost like a robot. Ironic, isn’t it?” The rifleman in the back-left seat voiced up.

Fareeha refused to take her eyes away again. Any mistake could send the platoon 6-feet under. Her refusal to acknowledge the rifleman’s comments only spiked interest from the machine gunner behind her.

“What’s ironic?”

“It’s ironic that our Sergeant is a robot, and not too long ago, my parents were fighting robots.”

The rifleman behind Fareeha quickly spoke up again, though with a bit of agitation in his voice.

“Omnics are not just robots. They’re people.”

Private Daher’s comment seemed to piss Private Nimr off to no end. He grew defensive, cocking his head to stare Daher down.

“If you can tell me how they are people, I’ll tell you how retarded you are.”

This time, it was Fareeha’s turn to speak up.

“Stow your comments. You should be focusing, not deciding each other’s morals.”

Neither one of them spoke up again. They understood that it was better not to try and challenge Fareeha – not only did she have rank on them, but she was the daughter of Captain Amari. The legend herself.

God, Fareeha got tired of people trying to compare her to her mother. She didn’t join so she could be her mother. She joined so she could make a big of a difference as her mother. At least, that’s what she told herself. That she wasn’t following her mother’s footsteps; instead, she was only continuing the tradition of being a ‘legend’, according to Soliman.

It never mattered in the end. Fareeha could have been one of the best soldiers in the entire army, and she would always be compared to her mother. Maybe when the time comes that she joins Overwatch, they will stop—

“Oh, shit!”

Everybody saw it before they could have done anything. Two vehicles in front of Fareeha, a rocket-propelled grenade slammed into the left side of another car. Each vehicle came to a halt.

Her vehicle’s internal radio sparked to life, giving a static transmission.

“All Hotel-1 victors, disembark.”

“Disembark! Naser, stay on that .50! Put suppressing fire on those buildings!” Fareeha commanded. She pushed her door open and quickly crouched behind the cover of the armored plating. Small-arms fire ricocheted off the vehicle’s plating and into the sand below. Some rounds went over their heads, and past the openings in the vehicle spacings. 

Corporal Soliman ran around the driver side of the RG-32 and slammed into the dirt next to Fareeha. He was visibly shaken, still gathering his bearings. She leaned up and sighted her scope, trying to see whatever was shooting at them. Whatever it was, they blended in well. The brown and tan houses did well to disguise them.

She sat back, looking to the 3 – no, 2 squad mates with her. The rifleman that was sat behind her caught a bullet in his left shoulder. Soliman was only just now starting to put pressure on the wound.

“Where’s Nimr?” Fareeha asked over the noise.

Soliman sounded genuinely frightened, as if he wasn’t expecting any combat for today. Nevertheless, he still exclaimed: “He’s dead! They lit him up as soon as his door opened!”

That was unfortunate. Fareeha needed her whole team. She pat Soliman’s shoulder once, saying, “I’m going to find a medic. Make sure Daher stays up while I’m gone.”

“Just make it fast!”

Fareeha dashed from vehicle to vehicle, until she got to the platoon’s combat medic. He had just finished up taking care of another soldier, one that was hit in the stomach. If she hadn’t been in the heat of the moment, she most likely would have cringed at that wound. She grabbed him by the shoulder and pointed down the line of vehicles. 

“Daher’s been hit! Can you get to him?” 

The medic nodded and tightened the strap on his helmet, then went down the path Fareeha went up. She continued, however, until she got to the platoon command vehicle. Lieutenant Masih was already on the com-net calling for any support.

Fareeha waited outside the vehicle, returning fire to the engaging hostiles. She laid out 17 rounds of her 30-round magazine before the lieutenant called for her. She quickly disengaged, reloaded, and went around to him.

“Sergeant, what do our casualties look like?”

Fareeha looked out at the line of cars just to make sure her intel wasn’t going to be faulty. She counted 3 wounded and 6 dead, so they still had about 21 still operational. 

“Sir, we’ve got 9 casualties. 6 K.I.A. The other 3 are too wounded to continue.”

“Air support is currently en-route, sir. Can we confirm civilian presence in the area?” The field radio operator next to him asked. 

“Sir, no civilians have been spotted. They’ve either fled, or the enemy has killed them,” Fareeha flatly stated.

“That’s a bold statement, Sergeant. I certainly hope that you are right. Bolros, let them know that civilian presence cannot be confirmed. Sergeant, R.C.T. 2 is currently moving to engage the enemy. Once they engage, we’re pulling back.”

“Understood, sir. I will have everyone ready to move.”

Fareeha stepped back from the vehicle, dashed from one to another, until she finally arrived back at her own. Private Daher was positioned with his back against the back-right tire, with Corporal Soliman firing over the hood of the scout vehicle.

“Soliman, word’s come down that we are close to moving. You’re going to have to move quick. I’ll grab Daher.”

“Understood!” Soliman screamed. Between his close rifle fire, and the sounds of every other rifle going off around her, the entire area was quite deafening. Almost so to the point where she came close to not hearing the helicopter above her. 30mm rounds came down from Ka-56, slamming into the buildings where the enemy fire came from. The bullets that previously cracked above her and her squad now stopped, and decided to focus on the main attacking force that was rolling into their setup.

“Now, go! Let’s move!”

Fareeha popped Daher’s side door opened, lifted him up by his good shoulder, and began to push him into the vehicle. He cried with pain, but there was nothing else she could do. 

What surprised her the most was how she saw Soliman grabbing the body of Private Nimr to put him inside. She expected him to follow her orders and get right to the driver’s seat, so they’d be ready to go. She decided to make no comment on how he disobeyed her orders.

“All Hotel-1 victors, we are Oscar-Mike. Proceed due north to Abu Tij.”

Fareeha was never the type of person to be startled by combat. Her whole life has revolved around it. The only thing that startled her was how suddenly the atmosphere changed in her vehicle. Within 15 minutes, Nimr and Daher went from arguing about Omnics, to one being dead and the other being wounded.

Soliman certainly wasn’t expecting anything like that. His eyes were looking at something – something that didn’t seem there. Fareeha stationed her rifle back against the windowsill, but chose to address him directly.

“Soliman, are you well?”

“Yes, Sergeant. I am fine.”

Fareeha knew that wasn’t the case. She reached her left hand over and rapped her gloved knuckles against his shoulder.

“You did fine. Nimr’s death was not anything we could have prevented. I appreciate you making sure we brought him back with us.”

She decided to comment after all.

“Daher, make sure you keep your eyes open. We’ll be there soon enough.”

Fareeha hadn’t noticed, but her hands were stained with a thick red liquid – one she instantly knew wasn’t hers. Daher had bled more than she realized. 

The fighting continued while the left. The thunderous echoes of war were eventually drowned out by distance set between the village and the platoon. Fareeha could only hope that they would be fine, and the Talon enemies there would be quelled.

* * *

Riding back took longer than she had anticipated. They were on the road for what seemed like a few hours. The sun barely moved, which proved her suspicions to be wrong. The platoon was greeted back at the base with an overwhelming amount of medical personnel, pulling all wounded out of the vehicles and rushing them to triages.

Someone called for everyone to check for wounds, just to make sure they didn’t overlook anything. Fareeha guessed it was Lieutenant Masih. She slung her rifle strap over her shoulder and watched as Daher was whisked away. Nimr’s body was brought to the morgue. They’d give him a proper send-off.

“I need all my sergeants at the commend tent!” Lieutenant Masih’s voice carried out over her personal-com radio. She patted Soliman’s shoulder and trotted off to her destination. As she walked away, she glanced back at her vehicle and realized just how much damage had been done. Aside from Nimr’s blood covering his seat and partially on the outside, the left side plating had been completely hosed. If it weren’t for that armor, none of them would have made it out alive.

Her arrival at the command tent was met by a few glances, nods, and Lieutenant Masih’s voice booming again.

“R.C.T. 2 has been engaged with the terrorists known as “Talon”. Thanks to our intel, they swiftly moved through the village without worry of any civilians in the area. So far, only a handful of the hostiles remain within the village, and infantry teams are clearing the buildings for any munitions and-or intelligence they can find. Unfortunately, our lead vehicle was hit. No survivors emerged from the explosion.”

The atmosphere of the room was low. If Masih hadn’t been talking, then it would have been quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Hearing the death report only lowered the morale of everyone there even more.

“Private Nimr was also killed in action. His body has been recovered. I will see to it that his body is sent back to his home for a proper burial. Our wounded are being treated further as we speak, and we’ll be receiving reinforcements for a further operation sometime later this week. Expect to see soldiers that are unreasonably green. Unfortunately, that is all that Hotel Actual can send for us. Until then, however, Hotel-1 is expected to rehabilitate.”

Fareeha noted that Lieutenant Masih’s tone changed. His facial expressions softened up.

“That means let your men relax. I know today was rough – Hotel Actual’s intel was rough. The actual size of the Talon forces in the area was not known to us. Neither was their armament. I wish we could have avoided any casualties, but we knew what we were doing. So, have your men get food, a good night’s rest, and have them calm down. Any questions?”

No one spoke up. 

“Dismissed.”

Each person walked out of the tent. Fareeha moved towards the triage, stalking through the soldiers that were walking through the base. Entering the triage displayed a gruesome scene – 3 men laid on surgical tables, each with a field doctor and a few nurses around them. She sat on a chair within the triage, away from the doctors as to not disturb them, but enough so she could watch the medics work. She only hoped to see her soldiers get better.

She sat silently, hands in her lap, eyes blankly focused on the wall in front of her. She remained in her battle-dress uniform, with her helmet’s chin strap undone. Fareeha was not sure how much time had passed since she originally sat down. She could tell by looking out a window that the sun started to set. Shadows moved from place to place, each pointing to the east.

“Sergeant Amari?”

Fareeha glanced to where the voice came from. A medic addressed her, hands clasped at the small of his back.

“You have been requested to leave the triage. I’m sorry, but we cannot have too many people within our workplace.”

“I understand,” Fareeha replied. She rose to her feet and pulled her helmet off, clipping it to her pack.

As she exited the building, the realization of how much time had passed fully kicked in. Shift changes were coming into effect. Lookouts were being replaced, and the afternoon medics finally got to take a rest. She shook her head, realizing that she wasted the rest of her day in a gloomy daydream. Trotting off to the N.C.O. barracks, Fareeha saw Corporal Soliman cleaning off the outside of his vehicle.

“Do you want any help?”

Soliman wiped furiously at the spattered blood. Something was bothering him, and Fareeha was quick to pick up on it.

“No, Sergeant. I can do it myself.”

Fareeha leaned her side against the driver side door. She ran a hand through her hair and watched him work.

“Daher seems to be recovering. Within a few months, he’ll be back on his feet. Masih assured me that Nimr will receive a proper burial at his home.”

Soliman still hadn’t said anything more. He seemed determined to get the stains off his vehicle – or to not be reminded by the bloody combat from earlier. She noticed a moment’s hesitation, however. The Corporal’s eyes met hers.

“A rumor is going around that someone from Overwatch has come to help out our medical staff. You were with them for a while, right? Because of your mother? Do you know why they would come help us out, of all people?”

Fareeha quirked an eyebrow. Soliman had caught her attention.

“Overwatch? I never served with them. My mother only had me with her on occasion. I saw them lot a good bit throughout my childhood, but not much after that. If they are truly here, I have no idea why. Have you heard where they are? They are not in the triage.”

Soliman went back to scrubbing. He directed his words to the RG-32’s plating, addressing Fareeha.

“Supposedly, Hotel Actual is briefing them on the situation. R.C.T. 2 is coming back with a few casualties. Combined with ours and the medical staff have their hands full. That, and the troops from last week. . .”

Soliman’s voice trailed off. His attention was through the vehicle, out to the command building. He scoffed at something.

“Speak of the Devil, and he shall appear.”

Fareeha followed his stare. Her eyes landed on a group of no more than 4 people, one dressed in the same uniform she wore, and 3 others that wore blue, with Overwatch insignias on their caps and shoulders.

More specifically, her eyes fell upon to a blonde-haired woman, whose stride showed that she carried herself with a sense of duty and pride. Fareeha felt her chest tighten; her stomach became a pit of emptiness, the air in her body seemingly being shoved out of her all at once.

“They certainly stand out, huh? You’d think that with the funding they receive from the U.N., they could afford some camouflage patterns. Or perhaps some better body—”

Soliman recognized that something was off about Fareeha. He cocked his head, setting down his tools to stand up against the car.

“You still with me, Amari?”

Fareeha held her gaze. Angela had promised to come visit, but it had been 2 months since they last spoke. Her heart convinced itself that she grew too busy, or lost interest in her entirely. Why she would travel from Gibraltar to Egypt was what confused her the most. Surely it wasn’t to only visit her. If so, she wouldn’t have brought 2 others with her.

“Hey – Fareeha, are you well?”

Fareeha made herself focus back onto Soliman. She offered a sincere nod.

“I am fine.”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Sergeant. Do you recognize any of them?”

“I recognize the woman. The others are too fresh for me to recognize.”

“What – you recognize Ziegler? The Angela Ziegler? How well did you know her?”

Fareeha hesitated. It wasn’t often she did so, so Soliman easily caught wind of her break.

“We were friends. I haven’t seen her in years.”

Soliman crossed his arms, pressing his right side against the vehicle. He became intrigued by the idea of Fareeha getting so flustered by seeing someone.

“Two years you and I have known each other, and I have never seen you look like that. She must have been quite the friend.”

“I saw her quite often. She was one of the only friends I had growing up.”

“Sergeant, that is seriously depressing.”

Fareeha furrowed her eyebrows. She wasn’t interested in comments about her childhood.

“I had other ways of fun.”

“Why don’t you go say hello? If it has really been years since either of you last spoke, then you could make her day by greeting her.”

A shaking of her head denied Soliman’s suggestion. He scoffed, adjusting the plate carrier over his torso.

“Well, then perhaps I will have to inform her that you’re here. There is no reason for you to sit here and stare.”

“No. She is too busy for me to strike up a conversation with her. I’ll do it later. Just not right now.”  
Soliman packed up his tools. After gathering his belongings, he offered a snicker and began to walk off.

“Don’t make a shittier day even shittier, Fareeha. Do yourself a favor and just go say hello.”

In truth, Fareeha knew he was right. No harm could come from her simply walking over there and informing Angela that this was her duty station. While she was not much of a procrastinator, Fareeha found herself doing just that. She popped the front passenger’s side door open and sat sideways in the seat, so the front of her body was facing outside. Her legs propped up against the foot assistance bar.

She found herself idly twiddling her thumbs. All it had done so far was prove to herself that a simple task such as this made her more nervous than she cared to admit. Her eyes focused onto the dirt underneath her. A reoccurring habit of hers seemed to be zoning out on random, barren, boring places.

If Angela had come this far out, and came to take care of wounded, certainly then she would have looked through the station’s roster. Why wouldn’t she see who she was treating? Especially after their last talk on the phone? Angela expressed interest in coming to see her again, but on shore leave, not while she was on duty.

Shore leave would have been much preferable. Then, Fareeha could have had time to prepare for seeing her again. Seeing her in one moment – one moment where she was completely caught off guard – was certainly problematic. Around Overwatch, she was truly herself. Around the Army, she was someone completely different – someone that refused to let her emotions rise.

She became a soldier, not a civilian. Seeing someone from her civilian life was concerning.

“Fareeha?”

The easiest thing Fareeha had done that day was recognize the voice addressing her. She looked up to the direction it came from.

“Angela?”

Her gentle blonde hair was tied up behind her head, with a few strands of it plucking out underneath her cap. Compared to Fareeha, she looked majestic. Fareeha had dirt caking her cheeks, and underneath the uniform and plate carrier, a new body filled with muscles replaced her older, weaker body that Angela had last seen.

Angela certainly noticed a striking resemblance to how Ana used to look, before her hair began to grey.

Each of them stared for a prolonged amount of time.

Angela was shocked to see someone that seemed to be so innocent now shown the horrors of war first-hand. She was bulky with all the gear on top of her. Fareeha’s hair was short – at least, shorter than she remembered. It flowed down to just above her shoulders. Her face was much sharper in person. Her eyes were filled with the same passion and determination that Ana’s once held.

Fareeha, on the other hand, still couldn’t believe who she was looking at. Angela was in the news much more than Fareeha was, so for her to see what she looked like wasn’t too hard. Besides, for the most part, Angela hadn’t changed too much. Aside from a difference in age, the only real difference Fareeha noticed was how tired she appeared.

Angela was the first to speak up.

“How have you been?”

“I have been well. What of you? Have you been well?”

“Aside from the stress, I have been quite fine.”

Small talk was the one thing that Fareeha could genuinely say she hated the most. Back in the day, she could have easily talked to Angela – but so much time had passed, she was scared that something like that was long gone.

“Why are you here?”

Admittedly, the question came off more bluntly than Fareeha wished it would have. She meant it more as a sincere question, like: What are you doing here? Or, What made you come here?

Come to think of it, none of those questions sounded any better than the one she asked.

“Well, if you can remember, I promised to come visit. Unfortunately, my request was denied. Commander Morrison told me that we were too busy to take breaks. That, and it would not look well for us for people to see Overwatch sending their people on vacation in light of so many attacks.”

Angela stopped. She carefully chose her words.

“So, I politely asked to be sent to Egypt with a small medical team to see if we couldn’t help the army out any. He. . . allowed me to do so. It just so happens that the base our team went to was the one you were assigned to.”

“Well, I’m glad you all are here. We’ve got more wounded on the way, plus the ones already in the triage. Today’s objective didn’t go so well.”

Fareeha jerked her thumb towards the back of the vehicle. Angela spotted what was wrong. Even despite a desperate cleaning attempt to get rid of it, the blood remained, and the interior of the vehicle smelled strongly of iron and copper.

Angela’s eyebrows lowered. She couldn’t help but feel amiss about the situation that laid out beforehand.

“Your battalion commander told me your platoon took casualties, yes. I’m sorry.”

Words that were never heard in the army were “I’m sorry”, so for Fareeha to suddenly hear them – she needed to understand what they meant again.

“You have no reason to be.”

Angela noticed how stoic Fareeha appeared. It was almost as if the kid she used to know was gone entirely, replaced by the rest of Ana’s genetics.

Though, trying to imagine if Ana used to be how Fareeha was before seemed almost impossible.

“Angela, how is my mother? It has been some time since I’ve heard from her.”

“Ana? Ana is fine. Busy and stressed, but fine. She and a small team are currently tracking Talon’s movements. They are trying to get one step ahead of them, for once.”

Fareeha nodded her head acceptingly. Hearing that her mother was still out on the front lines with the rest of the infantry was good.

“And you? How are you truly doing?”

Angela tilted her head. She was confused; she already answered Fareeha’s question earlier.

“Like I said, I am well.”

“So why go out of your way to visit me? What good does it do you to be here and not somewhere else? Plenty of other stations could use your help.”

There it was. Angela hoped Fareeha wouldn’t think too hard on it – but knowing who her mother was and trying to think something like that only insulted her intelligence.

“Some of us are just concerned. We sent you away from the people you knew best and into a world that was difficult to adapt to. I saw your interview with that man, and it only peaked my interest to check up on you.”

Satisfied, Fareeha nodded. She stood up and shut the scout car’s door, now standing face-to-face with Angela.

“Have you had a chance to settle in? Where are you and your crew staying?”

Angela gestured towards the main building, where she came out of.

“They’ve arranged for us to stay in the officer’s barracks. Supposedly, having us stay with the non-commissioned officers could be upsetting for some of the people in it. They have told me that some people here have. . . opinions of Overwatch.”

Fareeha’s facial expression turned to confusion. For the most part, she hadn’t heard of anyone that disliked Overwatch. Especially not someone like Angela. Though, admittedly, not many people would dare to voice their negative opinions about the organization to the daughter of its second-in-command. They all knew how she felt about it.

Overwatch was her life-blood. In truth, it was her determination. Her reasoning for excelling in combat positions. That, and her mother as well. Combining the two only gave her more of a cause to fight. 

“Well, I am sure they will keep their opinions to themselves. How long will you be staying with us? I can’t imagine Commander Morrison would allow one of his most valued members to stay for too long.”

There was something about how Fareeha referred to Jack as “Commander Morrison” that made Angela’s heart sank. Was she being swallowed up by the militarization in her life? How long would it be until she begins to refer to her as Doctor Ziegler?

“We will be staying for a week. Our current objective is to tidy up the job that your medics have done, and assist them in the casualties that are currently on the way. After that, Hotel-1 will be accompanying us to Al Waqat. Reports have come in that Talon forces are retaliating for the attack earlier today. They’re making a push in the south.”

“Why is it that the only good intel I receive comes from someone outside of our ranks?” Fareeha quipped. 

Admittedly, she was only joking. Angela recognized this and took it on good measure. Joking was good. It meant there was more to her than following orders.

One of the other members called out from the triage. Soon after, an abundance of shouting came through; someone cried for the gates to be opened immediately. Within moments, shot-up vehicles rolled through the base, some with blood staining their sides, some looking completely unharmed. Doors opened and bloodied men and women were carried out.

Angela gave a rushed goodbye and jogged off, doing what she knew best.

“Bye,” Fareeha weakly murmured.

She stared as Angela ran. In those few moments, her mind flooded back with memories of her childhood – memories of Reinhardt, Jack, Gabriel, Angela, and her own mother. She remembered how happy being around everyone made her.

It made her want to go back. Not in the way of going back to her childhood, but returning to them as she was now. Returning to them as a warrior, able to compete with their story telling and wisdom.

Who was she kidding? She was only in her twenties. They all had countless years of experience on her. She’d never be able to live up to their legacies. Perhaps it was never about living up to their legacies, but creating her own.

Going against her mother’s own will, at that.

It was time for her to go rest. They’d be having a busy day soon enough.

* * *

The motor company was kind enough to supply Hotel-1 with different armor plating. Some of the plates were too damaged to be taken into combat.

This time, things were different. They knew they’d be seeing combat today. It had been 39 hours since Angela and Fareeha last spoke.

Not that Fareeha was keeping track.

Now, they were rolling down to a small village named Al Waqat. Most of the civilian populace was displaced from the area, and the ones that were left were almost certainly trying to drive off the army. None of them wanted these soldiers in their homes, firing on their streets, ruining the structure. None of them had a choice, however; Talon being in the area was top priority.

She heard rumors that they were popping up everywhere, now. They were becoming a legitimate threat, and nobody knew what they wanted. As far as she knew, there was no reasoning with them. They were treated with extreme prejudice.

Fareeha’s vehicle was now the lead vehicle. She knew the risks of being in the position. It just meant she had to be much more careful today.

In the back, two different privates replaced Daher and Nimr. Now, there was Private Nazari and Private Haik. Lieutenant Masih was right, these two were fresh out of basic training and itching to see some combat.

“So, Sergeant, you’re the daughter of Captain Amari, yeah?” Private Nazari inquired.

“Yes,” Fareeha flatly stated.

“Are you as good as her? I mean, no offense – that’s just a hard reputation to live up to. Everybody knows the Captain Amari.”

Haik spoke up, shaking her head. “Cut that out, Nazari. She’ll kick your ass so many times that you’d wish you never made that stupid comment.”

Much to their surprise, Fareeha replied to Nazari’s comment.

“Living up to the legacy of my mother is not my concern. If your whole life is dedicated to following someone, you will not ever make anything out of yourself. If I could be as good as my mother, then I would not be here with you, and you would be under someone else’s command.”

Fareeha took her eyes off the horizon, staring down Nazari.

“Do you wish to be under someone else’s command?”

Nazari shook his head no. He made sure his light-machine gun was steady against the windowsill, opting to not chase further into the conversation.

Corporal Soliman’s lips upturned. The conversation humored him. He chose to make his own comment, in Fareeha’s defense.

“Sergeant Amari and I have served with each other for a year and a half. I can promise you, she’s the best at what she does. You should all feel lucky you’re in her fireteam.”

The radio crackled to life, offering new information on the mission.

“All Hotel-1 teams, continue north at 45 K.P.H. In 2 kilometers, we’ll proceed left at a fork in the road. Be advised: once we turn left, we will be in hostile territory. Zulu-2 and Zulu-3 are held up within the inner village. We will push through whatever resistance we face, and rendezvous with them. Hotel-1 Actual out.”

Private Naser swung the heavy machine gun to the right. He was eyeing something. 

“Sergeant, I think I’ve got something! 4 o’clock!”

That couldn’t be right. There weren’t any hostile forces in this region, not until they got to Al Waqat.

Regardless, Fareeha aimed where he called. She sighted in on a building, the only one for miles. She instantly recognized what he was calling out, and to an un-scoped eye, she understood the confusion. There was a man carrying a pipe, most likely trying to fix his rain in-take system.

“You’re jittery, Nasar. All that is is a man putting in some hard work.”

Nasar hesitated, trusting his gut. He only turned away because he trusted Fareeha’s more than his own.

Haik turned to her left, eyeing Nazari.

“What do you think is with the Overwatch crew accompanying us? Are our own medics not good enough?”

“I think our medics are good enough; however, their medics are simply much better. Would you rather be treated by medics that get shit supply, or medics that get funding from the U.N.?”

“Fair enough. I just think it’s odd. Why bring them here?”

Soliman spoke up, jerking a thumb to Fareeha. He quickly placed both hands back on the wheel.

“Ask Amari here. She’s in deep with the head doctor.”

Fareeha planned to kill him for that comment.

“Is that true, Sergeant? Do you know her well?”

“Yes, I do. Her and I have known each other for quite some time. She is a valuable member to Overwatch, so focus on not getting her killed today.”

Haik refused to let it go. Knowing her sergeant knew members of Overwatch so well peeked her interest.

“Do you know others, too? Like Reyes? He’s pretty handsome.”

Fareeha cringed. Hearing someone say Gabriel was handsome was too uncomfortable for her to understand.

Thankfully, Soliman turned left. They were headed into hostile territory now. Fareeha didn’t need to say anything for the crew to understand that now was not the time for any more casual discussion. Each member kept their weapon steadied and eyes sharp. Any sort of moment was called out, but none of it was vital.

When they got within 100 meters of the city, rifle fire cracked. Rounds pinged off the front of the vehicle, sparking up. Fareeha scanned for targets, but found none within her range.

Naser, on the other hand, had plenty to shoot at. His heavy machine gun boomed with each round he let off. Thunderous echoes clapped in the distance from gunfire. Soon enough, vehicles behind them started to engage, and they realized they were in the thick of it now.

Buildings surrounded them. Claustrophobia was never something Fareeha had, thankfully. She returned fire on Talon members, each round of hers carefully picking its target. Though, firing in a moving vehicle proved to be a bigger challenge than most thought it to be. Most of her rounds missed, but the ones that hit put the hostiles down for the count.

“All Hotel-1 victors, proceed west until you reach Zulu-2 and Zulu-3. Intel says Talon has set up rocket teams on the roofs. Gunners, watch your sectors. Hotel-1 Actual, out.”

“Naser, watch the rooftops! Nazari, keep that machine gun ready!” Fareeha barked out orders over the constant gunfire behind them.

For now, it seemed as if Talon hadn’t pushed too closely to Zulu 2 and 3. They knew they were dug in. Perhaps they didn’t want to chance a frontal assault.

They continued down the path until they reached the two teams, both of whom were dug inside a make-shift compound, comprised of sandbags and machine gun emplacements. Hotel-1 disembarked and pulled security, after reloading their weapons and checking for wounded. Only one man sustained an injury; his middle and ring finger on his left hand were blown off.

Each member of her team stood at their vehicle. Fareeha made her way over to Lieutenant Masih, who stood around the Overwatch team. As she approached, Masih gave her a nod and gestured her over.

“Amari, have your team ready up. You’ve got a new objective as of now.”

Fareeha cocked her head. She wasn’t made aware of her team being given a secondary objective.

“And that is, sir?”

“Zulu-2’s primary objective was to secure an informant of ours. As you’ve seen, this town is too heavy to send in everyone at once. A full-frontal assault is too much. We plan to send a small strike force – that being your team – to navigate through the streets and find him.”

“Do we have an idea of where he is? My one team cannot navigate this entire village, sir.”

“In the north-east quadrant of this village, there’s a large two-story building. You’ll know that you have the right one if you see a red X painted on the door. Underneath the floorboard is a hatch that leads into a saferoom. Announce yourselves and give him the word “Mercy”. He’ll come out.”

Immediately, Fareeha looked to Angela. Angela appeared dismayed, knowing Fareeha caught on to what was going on.

“Sir, this isn’t our informant, is it?”

Masih shook his head, saying: “It’s better not to raise questions for now, Sergeant. Have your team roll out immediately. Dismissed.”

Fareeha exhaled through her nose. She trotted back to her vehicle and checked over her magazine pockets again. Once she was satisfied, knowing she had enough ammunition in case things were to go south, she addressed her team.

“Alright. We’ve been tasked with someone else. We are leaving on foot and heading further east.”

Naser spoke up, concerned with the task at hand.

“Sergeant, you mean that we are going to move through the entrenched town? On foot?”

“I know it sounds like suicide, but we can’t risk driving through. On foot, we at least have the advantage of not being spotted as easily. We’re moving quickly and quietly.”

No one else said anything. They all mentally prepared themselves for what was about to happen.

“Let’s move. Haik, you’re on point.”

Each soldier moved with precision. The squad formed a column and stuck to the walls, staying out of the enemy’s line of sight. If they saw that soldiers were leaving on foot, Fareeha’s squad would have instantly been swarmed with hostiles. For now, no one said anything. They stuck to hand gestures, navigating between buildings carefully. 

The order of the squad went: Haik up front, Soliman behind her. Fareeha was in the middle, with Nazari behind her, and Nasar pulling security at the back. If someone in front of either one of them stopped, the rest stopped. They couldn’t risk a mistake now. For the most part, the north sector of the village was clear, aside from a few patrols that went looking for anyone of important.

The one thing that confused Fareeha was how she saw some people in windows, looking onto them scared as ever. She knew she couldn’t help them, and they had to have known that they weren’t there to help them, so why would they stick around? Talon hasn’t shown any mercy yet. Were they just too scared to leave their homes? Or were they holding out hope for the army to come and rescue them?

She prayed no one else saw them. They didn’t need the issue of civilian interference to mess with their minds. She needed them at their best.

Everything was going well. They moved like lightning on their feet, without the worry of having to always take the street in a vehicle. So many more maneuvering options presented themselves since they were on foot; they moved through buildings, over fences, and away from any hostiles. It wasn’t long before Haik brought a fist up. Everyone stopped in their tracks. She pointed to a two-story building, one that had an X painted on the door.

There was just one problem. Talon had already found the building.

Fareeha hypothesized that since they were still in the building, they hadn’t reached the informant just yet. Some were outside, by one of their armored vehicles. Thankfully, their vehicle didn’t have a mounted gun on the top of it. She counted 9 hostiles in total. 6 outside, 3 inside.

She ordered her squad into cover. With their angle of attack, they could hit the 6 outside while they were unaware.

“Everyone, pick a target,” Fareeha commanded. She sighted in on one stood at the door.

“I’ve got the far left,” Soliman added.

“I can get the two by the vehicle,” Nazari stated. He was confident in his ability to hit them with his light machine gun. Fareeha had to trust that he could.

“I’ve got the one in the door,” Fareeha commented. They had 4 lined up now. Only 2 more to go.

Naser aimed in. His ability to hit targets was true – but more-so on the mounted gun than anything. She just had to believe he would do well here.

“I’ll hit the one of the two standing guard by the back gate. Haik, grab the one on the right.”

Haik nodded. She steadied her rifle and prepared to fire.

“Ready.”

Fareeha let her index finger fall to the trigger. Her thumb flipped the weapon’s safety switch to the “off” position.

“Fire.”

In an instant, the roaring echoes of gunfire drowned out any life in the village left. Automatic and semi-automatic rifles fired, their rounds slamming into the walls and their intended targets. Nazari’s PKM-3 let off a flurry of rounds. He carefully let off an automatic spray at the two, and the enormous rounds that came with the gun tore through the terrorists’ armor.

Fareeha’s target had the same fate. While her rounds were not nearly as big as Nazari’s, her accuracy was much more clear-cut. 2 rounds of her 3 that were fired cut right into his chest. He went down for good.

Soliman, Haik, and Naser all dropped their targets relatively quickly, as well. Fareeha and Nazari only did it quicker. The 3 that were left in the house quickly scrambled to cover. Dust and bits of debris from the bullet impacts now cast a cloud over where their friends used to be.

“Nazari, cover fire! The rest of you, move up!” Fareeha exclaimed. She pushed up from her cover and ran out, her team following with her.

One of the Talon members peaked up after hearing them move. He was quickly cut down by automatic fire. 

Fareeha mentally reminded herself to thank Nazari when this was over.

“Haik, you’re up!” 

Haik and Naser stacked up against the front door. Naser placed his left hand at the door handle and gave a silent nod to Haik, and without hesitation after confirming she was ready, he popped the door open. Haik swiftly moved in, Naser following behind her. She checked right; he cleared left. Fareeha heard 3 different weapons fired.

She moved in after them. Soliman covered Nazari while he regrouped. Once that was done, Soliman moved inside to back up Naser.The scene inside the house displayed a mess. Haik laid on the flood, gasping for air. Naser and Soliman continued to clear the rest of the building. Fareeha brought her attention to Haik. She began to check her for injuries, but no blood appeared on the outside. What did catch her eye, though, was a piece of metal lodged in Haik’s plate carrier.

Fareeha dug it out, realizing it was a round fired from one of the Talon mercs. She shook her head, tucking it in a one of her chest pouches.

“Can you walk? Does anything feel broken?”

Haik pushed herself up. She rapidly shook her head, feeling the aftershock of directly taking a bullet. Fareeha knew it hurt like hell, and for Haik to try and get back in the action so quickly proved she was tougher than she imagined.

“I can walk, Sergeant,” Haik replied. Her words came out ghostly.

“Clear!” Soliman shouted. Nazari already set up in one of the windows, watching the approach sector of Talon. They didn’t have much time to work with.

Her previous assessment was correct. Talon hadn’t secured the informant yet, but they had found his panic room. They dug up the floorboards and made a few dents in the metal hatch, but nothing more than that. She crouched down and banged on the hatch 3 times, announcing, “Mercy!”

It took a few moments, but she heard the hatch begin to unlock. She stepped back. Once it was being pushed up, she lifted the rest back. A middle-aged man with greying hair climbed up a ladder. What shocked her was when a woman came up with 2 of her daughters.

“Did they tell you we’d be escorting kids back, Sergeant?” Soliman questioned.

They all knew that this complicated things. With a single man, you could cover him much easier – but with an entire family, moving under fire would prove to be much more difficult.

“I’m Sergeant Amari. We’ve been tasked with-“

“Goodness, you’re Ana’s daughter? Where is Morrison? I understood that he was supposed to come rescue us!”

“Sergeant, I have contacts at our 10!”

Nazari turned his rifle to the left. A spew of automatic fire rained out of his weapon.

Fareeha grabbed the man by his arm. She jerked him forward, deciding now wasn’t the time to debate who was originally supposed to come rescue him or not.

“We’re moving! Keep the V.I.P. and his family in the middle of formation! Soliman, take point!”

Nazari reloaded his weapon, falling in line. The squad exited the building and formed a semi-circle around the family, blocking any incoming fire from hitting the man they came to rescue.

They moved around the building, deciding it was better to take a direct path instead of trying to creep through alleys. Talon was on to them, now. No point in trying to avoid detection. They moved from building to building, taking refuge until they bound for another house.

The real challenge came when they had to cross an open road to get to the other side of it. No cover for at least 20 meters.

They stacked up against a wall, with Soliman at the front. 

“Alright. Soliman, you are going to bound over. Once you are in position, you and Nazari are going to cover the V.I.P. After him, we’ll send his children over one by one, then his wife. After they are in cover, Haik will bound. After Haik, Naser goes, then Nazari bounds, then me.”

Each squad member nodded. Soliman readied himself; he breathed heavily as the adrenaline ran through his body.

“Move!”

“Moving!”

Nazari trained his sights down the road. Only a few rounds were fired at Soliman, all of which strayed past him or impacted the road in front of him. Once he got to the other side, he slammed against the wall and shut his eyes. Fareeha knew it was a lot to ask – running in open fire like that, but they had to do it.

“Set,” Soliman yelled. The grey-haired man stepped up to plate. Fareeha yelled for him to move, and he ran right across the road. This time, rifle fire came more quickly. They seemed desperate to stop the squad from rescuing him.

“Set!”

“Move!”

One of the teenagers booked it across the street. She made it over quickly, being much lighter on her feet than the rest of them. Her sister did the same thing, and when it came time to her mother to do it, time seemed to slow.

Even despite Soliman and Nazari laying down suppressing fire, a bullet caught the woman in the stomach. It tore through her intestines and put her down. She laid out in the street, as even more bullets slammed into her unarmored body.

Fareeha heard the children’s cries over the gunfire. She couldn’t bear to look at them. Deep down, she knew that there was nothing she could have done to prevent the death, and the only option there was now was to keep moving.

Haik bound from the other side of the street. She avoided the body and quickly ducked for cover. Naser was up next. He ducked his head down and ran right for the other side. After making it and calling out that he was set, Naser bound right across the street. Talon forces were now pushing much more forward and getting closer. The chance of her making it across that street were slim. They were within 100 meters, she assumed, and now no one could miss her.

“Soliman, get them out of here! Get back to Hotel-1!” 

Soliman shook his head, unbelieving of what he was hearing.

“What about you? We won’t just leave you here!”

“That’s not the mission, Corporal! Get them to safety; I’ll find a way back on my own!”

Fareeha noticed his hesitation. While she couldn’t hear what he was telling the squad, seeing their negative facial expressions made her believe that he was following her orders. They began to run back towards Hotel-1.

“You had better make it back, Fareeha! We will finish this!”

Soliman turned and followed the rest of the squad. Once they were out of her field of view, she realized how awful her chances were of making it out.

She raised her rifle and peeked the corner. They were closer than she originally though. 3 rounds dropped the closest one to her. The others turned to fire on her, spraying bits of debris in the air. Fareeha picked up on their yelling. They seemed awfully mad.

Her next actions involved backing away from the corner and repositioning. They were expecting her to be there, so surprising them only benefitted her. She dug in inside a house, carefully watching the corner she was just set up at. As the first man showed, she fired. The first round precisely tore right through the slit in armor that separated his helmet and chest plating. He dropped to the ground, squirting a thick red liquid from where her round impacted.

2 others came around. She dropped one, but the other had already begun to fire on her. She was forced back again. They took the time to push closer to her and try and close the gap. Fareeha knew that if they got too close, there wasn’t anything she could do.

She peeked again, but was immediately suppressed. As she began to think of an exit strategy, the door burst open. The other man that peeked the corner now entered the house. He was cut down by 6 rounds.

She didn’t mean to fire so many rounds. Her animalistic instincts began to kick in, and now she wouldn’t stop until she knew that the enemy wasn’t getting back up. The 6 rounds were fired because she had to make sure of it.

2 more pushed through, the last of the squad that tried cutting the squad off. They closed the distance, shoving her rifle away from her. She reached for her handgun and shoved it against one’s gut, firing a quick 5 rounds into it. 

The other man charged her, slamming her into the wall next to her. Her vision dazed with the sudden attack, and she was left vulnerable.

Something jumped up and bit her. She felt a sharp pain in her side, and felt some warm liquid travel down her leg. It wasn’t as much blood as a gunshot wound produces. She could feel something inside of her, something tearing into her.

That’s when Fareeha realized the other one just stabbed her. She stumbled back, falling to the ground. He got on top of her and pulled the weapon out of her hand. Something was off about how angry he felt. Usually the other attacker would have killed you outright, but this man began to pulverize her face in. His right fist repeatedly slammed into her left cheek and part of her nose.

“You like that, bitch? Don’t fuck with me!” Beneath his mask carried a muffled voice. She could hear how infuriated he was. For all she knew, she just killed his entire squad.

Fareeha retaliated with an attack that probably was going to kill her; however, she had to neutralize the immediate threat. Here goes nothing, her mind whispered.

She pulled the knife out of her side and jammed it into her attacker’s stomach. Not once, but twice, mainly so he’d profusely bleed out from the first entry wound. She pushed him off her and slid the knife out, tossing it away afterwards.

She laid out on the dusty floor, staring up at the ceiling above her. Her hands tightly held themselves against the entry wound. She should have just risked running across the street.

Never the less, she pulled herself up with the assistance of the windowsill. She secured her handgun and rifle once more and kept a hand against the stab wound.

What a stupid idea. 

She had to move now if she wanted to make it back. She was losing blood quickly, a little too quickly for her liking. Stumbling towards the door, she carefully stepped over the body of the man she first put down. The sun hit her eyes harder than they ever had before, but Fareeha made out a figure in a window to her right. She drew her handgun and pointed.

A frightened yelp was enough to let her know that what she was aiming at wasn’t hostile. She lowered the weapon, approaching the window. Droplets of blood dripped down her boot, creating a trail where she walked.

“Who is there?” Fareeha called out. She leaned against the wall to support herself up.

Much to her surprise, a young girl poked her head out. Scared beyond belief, her eyes penetrated Fareeha’s stare as if she were begging her not to shoot her.

“I. . . I’m not going to hurt you.”

The little girl’s eyes turned to a perplexed state. She slowly arose, then approached the window.

“You shot those men,” She muttered. Fareeha had trouble understanding how the girl could grow up in such a hostile environment.

“They were bad men. Where are your parents?”

Fareeha grit her teeth. The pain was overtaking her body second by second. No amount of adrenaline could truly hide back the pain coming from her face and side.

“They are back at home. Where did the other soldiers go?”

Following a question with her own question. Nice. Fareeha didn’t have time to sit around and talk.

“They went where I need to go. You – argh, damn. . . you need to get home. You can’t be walking the streets by yourself.”

The girl went to the door and pulled it open. She stood outside with Fareeha, but quickly covered her mouth. 

“You’re bleeding!”

“Yeah. . . and like I said, I need to get back to my team.”

The child ran around to Fareeha’s good side. She wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled Fareeha along.

“I’ll help you!” She exclaimed. Fareeha sighed, inaudibly deciding it was probably better not to say no. Besides, she unconsciously leaned against the girl anyway. Her body was hurt more than she realized.

Fareeha had no idea how quickly she was moving, but in her mind, it was rather quickly. Walking on a wound like this was never a good idea. They crossed the now-empty street, and the bodies of the men Fareeha put down earlier littered the dirt with pools of blood surrounding them.

They continued down the path she instructed her squad to follow. It wasn’t long before she heard someone approach. Instinctively, Fareeha rose her pistol up and aimed where she guessed the approaching people were coming from. Her team came around the corner; Fareeha’s heart skipped a beat. She wouldn’t have been able to fight back against more than 2 people.

“Holy shit! Sergeant?”

Haik rushed to Fareeha; Nazari, Naser and Soliman followed her.

She had no idea how bad she looked, but she could take a guess from blood trail that seeped down her chin, and the one that drenched her right leg.

“Goddamn it, Fareeha. . . we need to get you back,” Soliman suggested. His arm wrapped around her left arm, draping hers over his shoulders. He supported her up while the 3 others covered him.

Daring to look down at the wound, Fareeha’s mind finally began to slow down. The adrenaline was most likely the only thing keeping her up at this point, because she had lost so much blood that her vision was starting to darken.

“Damn. . .” She murmured.

They were closer to the outpost than she imagined. Either that, or her perception of time drastically changed. Soliman carried her to Hotel-1’s command vehicle. Everyone was already loaded up by the time they got back. They were set to move out immediately, it seemed. Angela and her team were shocked at Fareeha’s injuries, but didn’t let their emotions get the better of them. They stripped her armor off and sheared around the stab wound. 

She felt something push into her leg. The pain almost instantly began to disappear. 

The vehicle accelerated. Zulu-2 and Zulu-3’s operational vehicles followed behind Hotel-1. They got what they originally came for. 

“Fareeha, just try to relax,” Angela whispered. She ran a hand over Fareeha’s forehead while the medics went to work on the wound.

“You will be fine, understand? I know we have a lot of explaining to do, and once we get back to the base, I promise we will do just that.”

Whatever they had given her made her too woozy to talk. She opened her mouth, but the only thing that came out was a groan. Her eyes involuntarily began to shut, and the world around her went dark.

The grey-haired man spoke up from the front. He was holding his daughters tightly, heads buried against his chest.

“She will make it, right?”

Angela furrowed her eyebrows. Her stomach tied into a knot after seeing Fareeha how she is.

“She will make it.”

* * *

Something was wrong.

Fareeha was in Switzerland. She was sat around a round table, headed by Ana, Gabriel and Jack. Her mind was clear of any memories involving her travelling to Switzerland. Wasn’t she just stabbed?

“Mother?” Fareeha inquired. She looked around her surroundings, taking in the whole room for what it was.

“Yes, Fareeha? Is something wrong?”

“When did I. . . get here?”

Ana cocked her head to the side. Fareeha caught Jack and Gabriel’s attention with the question.

“What do you mean “here”? Switzerland, or in this room?”

Gabriel was next to speak up. He shook his head and leaned closer to Ana. His voice was low and hoarse, like he was trying not to have Fareeha hear him. Oddly enough, Fareeha could hear his every word, even despite his efforts to mask them.

“Why is she here, Ana? This is important. She shouldn’t be here while we discuss-“

Ana cut him off, silently agreeing with him. She gestured to a man clad in humongous silver armor. His helmet was off, and his flowing blond locks fell to his shoulders.

“Reyes is right. Reinhardt, could you please take Fareeha back to her room? She cannot be here.”

Reinhardt opened his arms up. He carefully lifted Fareeha up in his arms, holding her above his head. 

“Ah hah! Come, Fareeha! We have much to explore!”

Despite it being her body, she felt unreasonably unable to control it. Her limbs moved like a child’s, and she found it more as if she were watching someone take control of her body. Reinhardt set her down on his neck, and her legs wrapped around into a lock. She held onto his hair while he trapezed through the base. Against her will, she let off the most childish giggle she could imagine. If anyone in her squad had heard that, their respect for her would have diminished into nothing.

For some reason, Fareeha was unable to focus on anything outside of her view. She could not move her eyes on her own will. The only time they moved was when whomever was controlling her body moved them. Plus, Reinhardt hadn’t done this to her since she was a little girl. Not that she grew too heavy for him, of course, but she politely asked him to once she hit 12. She vaguely remembered her excuse being something about growing too old for it.

Was she. . . dreaming?

Something about realizing she was dreaming brought her out of it. Now she woke up on a hospital bed, covered by a medical gown. An IV was stuck in her left arm, pumping blood back into her. As she tried to sit up, she could feel the pain in her side. A nurse approached her, immediately checking her vital signs to see if she was doing well. Her heart rate was pumping up.

“You’re fine, Sergeant. Your squad brought you back.”

“Where is Angela?” Fareeha sounded more desperate than she wanted to. Her eyes avoided the nurses, instead choosing to look around the hospital for any signs of her friend.

“I’m sorry, Sergeant – your Lieutenant told me to contact him as soon as you woke up. I need to go get him.”

With that, he walked away. Her question was left unanswered, but Fareeha’s gut told her something was wrong.

Lieutenant Masih approached not too long after the nurse left. Seeing how she was, he shook his head, cursing underneath his breath.

“You should be more careful, Sergeant. We can’t afford to have you out of the fight. How are you doing?”

“I am fine, sir. No pain.”

Masih scoffed. He pointed to the side of her body where she had been attacked. 

“Don’t need to put on an act, Amari. That almost certainly hurts like hell. Regardless, I need to brief you on what happened. I imagine you have some questions.”

She remained silent, allowing Masih to continue. He was right. She did have some questions.

“Zulu-2 and 3 made it out with heavy casualties, but their original goal was to get that informant, as I’m sure you guessed. They were under the assumption that it was one of ours, like you and your team were. Orders came down from the brass that Overwatch’s involvement here was to remain disclosed unless necessary. Especially after their latest involvement. Unfortunately, some people found out, so we moved as quickly as we could to contain the rumors. Zulu-2 and 3 failed. They were met with too heavy of resistance. Hotel-1’s objective was to go in and cover their retreat, but on the way there, I received new orders that we were to delegate a small task force to rescue him. If they died, then Overwatch would send in their own personnel to deal with it.”

Fareeha’s heart beat continued to beat rapidly. Now, she held in anger, rather than confusion.

“Sir, why didn’t they just send their own people in anyway? Why risk the lives of my men?”

“Because they believed you would get the job done, Sergeant. They picked you for the task.”

Fareeha couldn’t believe her ears. Did Commander Morrison directly ask for her involvement? There was no way her mother agreed to that, but if he trusted her that much. . .

“I understand, sir. I’m sure they secured him as soon as he arrived, correct?”

Masih nodded his head. His arms crossed over his chest.

“Correct. The team left as soon as the informant was brought back to the base. His children went with him, as well. Doctor Ziegler expressed concern for your well-being, but I assured her that our surgeons would take good care of you. That’s the last we heard of them.”

So, Angela was gone. One quick meet up was the only thing she got from her. One where she was on official business. Not even a real visit.

Her heart sank. She sunk back into the bed and sighed.

Masih set a hand on her shoulder. He squeezed his fingers together.

“You did well out there, Sergeant. Try and get some rest. We need you back out there as soon as you can be out.”

“Understood, sir.”

Masih looked over her condition once again, rubbing his chin. He let off an exasperated exhale through his nose and turned to walk away, leaving Fareeha alone for the time being.

Her one wish was that she could have truly caught up with Angela. While desperate as it may seem, having that sort of conversation with someone that wasn’t either her subordinate or her superior could have been the refresher her mind needed. While she wished Angela could have at least waited for her to get back up so she could properly give a goodbye, she knew that her mind was just going to guilt her into believing that somehow, someway, she did something to make her leave on her own.

It wasn’t her fault. Deep down, she knew that believing Angela could have gotten shore leave approved was a mistake on her part. Overwatch was at war, whether or not they admitted it. Even Fareeha didn’t know what Talon wanted, but she knew that it involved Overwatch and their affairs. Why they were in Egypt, she didn’t know, but she promised herself that she would see to it that no more harm would come from them.

Once she got out of this damn bed, of course.


	7. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ana learns the news of Fareeha's injuries. Fareeha is transferred to a hospital in Cairo to fully recover from the stab wound, and receives an unexpected visitor while there. Things heat up, and before she knows it, her whole world has been thrown for a loop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took me a while to write, because I learned something the hard way.
> 
> Always frequently save your writing.
> 
> I sat down one day and decided to write this out in one day, because I wanted it done quickly. Got about 7,000 words in, and my computer crashed. Kind of lost my spirit there, and took a break for a good while. Decided I'd write about 2,000 words a night, so this one took me 5(ish) days to write.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy.

Overwatch’s Headquarters in Switzerland was busier than ever. With the public fearing that Overwatch could no longer keep them safe, and that their methods were too cruel for any backing, they never felt more on their own. They were not able to operate inside of London anymore, and Egyptian officials have been on the fence about banning their activities for some time.

None of that mattered if the people inside Overwatch didn’t trust each other, though.

Ana was furious. Jack understood why, but it was ultimately his decision. Fareeha completed the objective. His gut told him that, deep down, she understood his reasoning as well.

“That is my daughter, Jack. How dare you overlook my opinion in a decision like that?”

Reyes stood behind her. For the moment, he remained quiet, not yet taking a side in the heated discussion. The 3 of them stood alone inside of Jack’s office, nothing but each other to judge.

“We needed the job done, Ana. No one else got it done. It was either we send her in, or we risk bringing in more than a small team and having a much larger presence in the area. Now, I’m sure I don’t have to remind you that we aren’t on the greatest of terms with the Egyptian populace. Even putting Ziegler on the ground was a bigger risk that I would’ve liked to take. Fareeha needed to see a friendly face. She needed to know that what she was doing was important enough for someone like the doc’ to go. She and her team walked out alive, Ana – and they did everything we needed them to.”

“She was stabbed! Doctor Ziegler’s report even said that she lost a great deal of blood before she arrived back with her platoon!”

Jack sighed. His hands flatly rested against the top of his desk. He hunched forward, shaking his head.

“I could show you a dozen of my own scars, Ana. Scars that I got before the enhancement program. That’s just the risk you take. Fareeha knew what she was getting into when she enlisted. I get she’s your daughter, but you need to understand that she’s not immune to war. Now, I’m sorry she got stabbed doing something that we should have been able to handle before, but we couldn’t. Risking public knowledge of our involvement in Egypt was too great of a risk to take.”

Ana pinched the bridge of her nose. She sunk into a chair placed in front of Jack’s desk. Gabriel finally grew closer, arms folded.

“It’s a shit pill to swallow, but it’s one that we’ve gotta’. You trained her up since she could practically walk. Expecting anything but the best from her is an insult to everything you and everyone else here did to make sure that when she eventually followed in your footsteps, she’d be the goddamn best. Her getting stabbed and still coming out on top is just a testament to how strong she really is.”

Gabriel leaned down, setting a hand on Ana’s shoulder. He lightly pat down on it, unable to comprehend what it felt to truly feel how she felt.

“I don’t want this for her. Our whole purpose was to restore order, so our children and their children never had to do something like this. So, we could allow them to live a peaceful life, where the threats of war aren’t as evident as they used to be.”

“Ana,” Jack began. He sat back in his chair, clasping his hands together. “We stopped the Omnic Crisis. Because of us, kids like her actually got the chance to grow up. She’s 23. She’s old enough to make these kinds of decisions herself. You can’t blame yourself – or us, for that matter – for something she does on her own will.”

Ana leaned forward. She came to a stand, turning her back to both Reyes and Morrison. 

“I suppose you’re right. That doesn’t mean I content with it, but. . . it is her decision. If you don’t mind, I’d like a moment to myself.”

Jack eyed Reyes. He nodded his head once, leaning against the left wall. Neither one of them spoke for a moment; they both understood where she was coming from. Neither one of them had children of their own. Perhaps it was for that exact reason, never wanting to send their kids out to fight. Ana was always public with her opinion on Fareeha’s service. Fareeha was someone that refused to let anything stand in the way of her service, even if it meant going against her mother’s wishes.  
“Go ahead, Ana. We’re finished here.”  
With that, she walked out of Jack’s office, leaving the both of them alone for now.

“You know, Jack, maybe it’s best we give her some time off. Can’t imagine she’ll be making the best decisions knowing her daughter’s out there getting shot at and stabbed.” Reyes kept his eyes on the door, making sure that Ana didn’t suddenly decide to walk back in on their conversation.

“Ana doesn’t need “time off,” Reyes. She needs to trust us to not send her daughter out to die without at least letting her know first,” Jack shot back. While he stood by his decision to send Fareeha in, he could admit that the operation didn’t go as smooth as he wished it would have.

“So, why’d you do it? You knew that she was going to earn some scars sometime down the line. You just think that you’d make sure she got them from doing something on your orders?” Gabriel’s tone was satirical. He wasn’t expecting a serious answer back.

“Don’t give me your bullshit, Gabe. If there was any real option out there, you know I would’ve done it.”

“I’m just saying. I’d say her anger’s pretty goddamn justified.”

Jack slammed a hand down on the tabletop. He rose up from his chair and locked eyes with Gabriel.

“Then what do you think I should’ve done? Would you have gone to her and told her the plan? Tell her that you’re sending her goddamn daughter out into hostile territory? Or would you have sent a team in, so that everyone and their fucking mothers could see that we were operating inside of Egypt again?”

Gabriel rose his hands up. Jack saw that gesture too many times throughout his career. More-so in the past year than anything. Jack thought he did it on purpose, mainly just to piss him off.

“Maybe let her team know beforehand so they don’t go in with a completely different operation in mind? You obviously trusted her enough to send her in to rescue him, would telling her just a liiiittle earlier really changed anything? I mean, it is Fareeha we’re talking about here, Jack. I get the feeling that she probably would’ve been more on board with the idea of helping us out if, y’know, she actually knew it was us she was helping out.”

Jack sighed. While he understood Gabriel’s point, in his mind, he still was content with his own decision.

“And that whole trick with Ziegler, how well did you think that would actually work? I get the sentiment behind it: you send someone she cares about in, it gives her more incentive to complete the job. I just can’t wrap my head around why you had Ziegler lie to her.”

“I didn’t have her lie to anyone. I told her that her objective was to just keep an eye on Fareeha. Make sure that she completed the objective, and if she needed any reassurance on anything, then she was to make sure that she got it.”

Gabriel cocked an eyebrow. Now he seemed more confused than anything. He listened to every word Jack said carefully, just so he could truly understand his point of view.

“Then. . . why’d she lie about being there to help with casualties only?”

“Because that wasn’t a lie, Jack. She really was there to help with their casualties. In fact, Ziegler and her team were responsible for saving the lives of 5 people – Fareeha included. All she did was pass information along when the time was right. Having them help with the wounded only boosted the local’s opinion on us. They were told that our presence there was small, and that we were only there to help them out. Which, in truth, wasn’t an entire lie.”

“It just wasn’t the whole truth.”

Jack shook his head. It was a scummy thing to do, but it wasn’t a full lie. It was good for the military’s opinion on Overwatch, and knowing that the civilian populace wasn’t going to find out about it on a large scale was good.

“Here I was thinking that we were going to leave the black-ink cases for you and your crew, Jack. If things go well enough in the near future, we shouldn’t have to pull something like this for a long time. Now, is there anything else you need?”

“Nah. Just follow your own advice; leave that kind of stuff to my crew.”

On that note, Gabriel took his leave from Jack’s office. It was difficult for Jack to admit, but if he had to do something like that again, he would. He trusted Fareeha enough to complete jobs like that, and he was right to do so. Ana trained her well, so to believe that anything but the best would have come from her was an insult.

Though, he did appreciate that it was Gabriel’s job to make decisions like that. It spared him the grey hairs.

* * *

Committing to the job was one thing. Outright disappointing someone close to you was another.

Angela returned to Switzerland for debriefing after completing her objective in Egypt. She already delivered a digital copy of her after-action report to Strike-Commander Morrison. While he was one to understand doing whatever it takes to complete a mission, she was not.

Knowing she left before Fareeha recovered was tough enough on her conscious. Now she had to imagine that Fareeha also knew that being there for her wounded men was just a cover up.

Growing up with some of the top Overwatch personnel taught you a few things when it came to deductive reasoning, not that anyone else could have figured it out anyway. Her original goal was to try and spend some time with her, ask her how she was doing. She wanted to get to know the real Fareeha again, not some run-of-the-mill soldier.

Maybe that’s all that was left of her now. Maybe she ruined her chances of truly befriending her.

A knock came to her door that knocked her out of her guilty thoughts. Answering it revealed the mother of the girl that couldn’t escape her thoughts. A distraught look covered Ana’s face; Angela immediately picked up on what she was thinking.

“Ana? Are you all right?” She gestured to the inside of her quarters, offering her inside.

She walked inside of Angela’s room and paced back and forth, keeping a hand on her chin.

“Your report was accurate, I assume? No skipped details that you wouldn’t want to mention to Jack?” 

“Yes, everything I wrote was accurate. I didn’t leave anything out of it. Why do you ask?” Angela sat across from Ana, folding her hands in her lap.

She understood why Ana was frustrated. If it had been anything else, she never would have taken the time to ask if her report was inaccurate. It wasn’t insulting; in fact, knowing that Ana was concerned enough to directly come to Angela and get her personal details on the event only made her realize how much she did care.

“And when Fareeha was. . . stabbed, how bad did she appear? Enough to warrant her medical discharge?”

Angela was taken aback by the question. Her eyebrows furrowed, with her fingers twiddling together.

“She would never sign off on it, Ana. Even if you tried pulling some strings, making that choice for her isn’t ethical. It was her decision to join, and-“

“I know that,” Ana cut her off with. “It’s not about pulling strings. I just. . . wanted to know the extent of her injuries. A stab wound can do a lot of damage. If she’s well enough to continue service, then I understand.”

Angela noted the grimace in Ana’s voice at the end. It was hard to sympathize with her, because Angela had no kids to call her own. Her own grief was most likely nowhere near the level of Ana’s. Maybe one day she’d make it up to her.

“She’s a strong woman, Ana. If you read my report, then you saw the details her squad mates gave me. She took on five of those terrorists. Two in close quarters. Any other soldier in that army would not have walked away. If anything, what I think she needs most now is for you to communicate with her. Let her know that even despite her choice to enlist, you still care.”

Ana let out a sigh. She knew Angela was right. She hadn’t done much in the way of communicating with Fareeha, ever since she knew that her mind was made up. Admittedly, it did cause too much of a ripple in their relationship. Fareeha was so honor-bound that the idea of her mother opposing her service was too gloomy for much for her to handle. Purposefully pushing herself away, Fareeha truly started to become her own person, and no longer in her mother’s shadow.

“Of course. I suppose I’ll do that, then. Have you had a chance to speak with her at all?”

Angela’s guilt wracked harder. She thought back to their conversation with a grief-filled heart.

“Yes, I did. It was much. . . shorter than our others. She seemed much more focused than I have seen her before. Like every word she spoke was filled with a command.”

Ana couldn’t help but smirk. Her portrayal of Fareeha reminded her of herself, when she was still in the Army. God, how long ago that felt. Back when she was still with Sam. . . that was what made Ana feel her age.

She pondered on what Sam was doing now.

“Yes, well, I understand that much. I know how Fareeha is. Our whole family was like that, at some point, aside from her father’s side. To her, duty is everything. That is why I fear for her. She’s not what I was: a sniper. She’s a rifleman. She’s out on the front lines, getting shot at. During the Omnic Crisis, I saw many good men and women die out there, while I was always hidden. Her job is very different. I imagine that to her, it’s the whole world. I don’t even know how long she plans to serve.”

“Until she’s offered a position in Overwatch, I imagine,” Angela muttered.

Ana cocked her head. “What do you mean? There is no guarantee that she’ll be asked to join us.”

Angela sneered. It wasn’t hostile; she just genuinely didn’t believe that.

“Come on, Ana. Jack loves her. Why would he not pass up a chance to offer her a position here? She could do great things.”

While she realized that Angela was right, Ana still didn’t want to believe it. Only the best of the best were offered positions into Overwatch, and while Fareeha may have been great, she needed to prove herself in more ways than one in order to ensure her spot here. Even Reinhardt wasn’t originally meant to join. The only person that was truly set-in-stone to join was Angela, because of how well she could operate in the medical field.

Fareeha was just another soldier. Overwatch had plenty of those. How could Angela be so sure that Fareeha was going to be accepted?

“Well, I suppose we will see. In the meantime, Angela, I need to get back to my office.”

Angela nodded her head. Ana didn’t need to provide a reason for her leave; it wasn’t Angela’s place to question. While they may have been friends, rank was still there.

“Of course, Ana. Try not to stress the situation too much. Doctor’s orders.”

Ana lowly scoffed. “Very well.”

After Ana strode out the door, Angela found herself alone once more. Maybe now was her chance to finally call Fareeha and have a real chat, instead of how their last two went. She owed her that much.

She knew that Fareeha was most likely undergoing some sort of further treatment. While her injury was serious, it was surprisingly easy to treat – for the most part.

Angela picked up her phone and immediately scrolled through her contacts, finding Fareeha’s name. She hesitated; should she chose to video call, or just an audio call? Would Fareeha be all right with no warning video-call? So many questions ran through her brain, some of them pettier than she cared to admit.

Audio call it was.

The call went through, a dial-tone now filled her ear. 4 cycles of it rolled through, until audio came through on the other end. Angela heard the muffled voices around the room, and what she understood to be the Arabic language being spoken.

“Hello?” An accented, feminine voice in English spoke, sounding like an all-too-familiar person.

“Hello!” Angela quickly replied. Maybe a little too quickly. She found herself filled with anxiety over a simple phone call, something as silly as saying hello made her nervous. Unable to find a reasoning for it, she opted to fight through the nerves and act as normal as she possibly could.

“Angela? Is something wrong?”

“No! No, nothing’s wrong. I was just calling to check on you – again. Are you feeling well?”

What a stupid question. She was stabbed – of course she doesn’t feel well. It was a good decision to not make the call a video call. Fareeha would’ve easily picked up on Angela’s conscious and regretful facial expressions.

“I am well. The doctors on-base did well to patch me up. I am in the process of being transferred to a hospital in Cairo. Is there anything you need?”

A sense of guilt slammed into Angela’s stomach. After feeling in-directly responsible for her injuries, Angela was trying to help out Fareeha as much as she could – yet, here Fareeha was, asking if she needed anything. Ana really did raise her well.

“I need you to get some rest. I know how you are, Fareeha, and you need to take that wound serious. What do you plan to do while you’re in Cairo? Surely, they’ll allow you to have some time off, right?”

“Somewhat. I believe they will allow me to leave only on occasion. They certainly will not let me stay out at night. As for what I’ll be doing. . . I suppose I’ll stay in. I really don’t have much to do.”

Angela frowned. Most of Fareeha’s friends were either in Overwatch or in the army, neither of which would get the chance to visit her. Perhaps. . .

“Well, I’ll come visit you.” 

Angela’s words slipped out of her mouth before her brain had any time to think about the reality behind them.

Silence filled the line. Each justified in its own right. Fareeha, because Angela gave the same promise before. Angela, because she knew that she’d have to convince Jack of somehow allowing her to visit Egypt again, but with no connection to Overwatch.

“You do not have to,” Fareeha broke the ice with.

“Well, I would like to. No Overwatch, no army – just me there, providing you some company.”

Angela bit into her lower lip. She could hear the uncertainty in her own voice.

“Okay. I’ll send you the hospital information. Please let me know when you arrive.”

There was something about how Fareeha said “when you arrive” and not “if you arrive” that put more pressure on Angela to deliver on her promise.

“I’ll be sure to. I’ll see you soon, okay, Fareeha?”

“Okay, Angela.” Fareeha’s voice was blunt – it felt cold, like the audible representation of an icicle.

The call ended shortly thereafter. Angela needed to convince Jack somehow, and she didn’t know how she was going to do it.

She had to fulfil her promise.

* * *

Fareeha settled into her room. She wasn’t sure how long she’d be here, but the hospital at least had a nice view overlooking the city. Cairo was breathtakingly beautiful. She wished she could see it more, but the army only sent her around to areas that were not nearly as urbanized.

She promised herself not to think of the phone call.

Every time she thinks about it, her heart tightens up. It had only been a few days, but she hadn’t heard anything from Angela, and the feeling of déjà vu was all too familiar at this point.

Standing at the window, Fareeha idly stared outside, watching the busy streets below her. Her mind scrambled with the thoughts of whether or not the people actually knew what was going on further south. They lived in a great city, one that knew only the fears of the Omnic War. The people there would most likely never truly look at the Omnics as friends. Too many people died long ago for the city to forget about it.

Things might change, though. A whole generation has gone by since the end of it. Egypt has known war for too long, and the idea of peace became no more than an afterthought for most people.

Not her, however. Every time she closed her eyes, Fareeha dreamed of a world without conflict, without death. It may seem like a fairy-tale with the uprising of Talon, but threats have been eradicated before. 

“As tensions continue to rise in London after protests for Omnic equality clutter the streets, an organization operating under the alias “Talon” has begun to make their mark in the Middle-East. Report indicate that the group appears to be taking advantage of Egypt’s weakened military, and are beginning to set up their base-of-operations in the Southern area. Military operations to rid the country of the terrorists have already begun. We’ve received word that the Egyptian Military has suffered heavy casualties since they’ve begun opposing the hostile force. We’ll have more on that later.”

The news anchor’s words racked inside her mind. She hated the idea of letting the rest of the world know her people were dying, that her own men were dying. She thought it made them look weak, like they couldn’t handle some pathetic group.

A knock came at her door. She could hear it open, and listened to someone walk in.

“Good evening, Sergeant Amari. Are you feeling any pain from standing?”

“No,” Fareeha lied. It wasn’t enough pain to warrant making an issue out of it.

“Well, that’s good news. Perhaps you’ll be back out there before you know it.”

She flexed her fingers into a fist. She needed to be back out there. Every second she spent in this hospital was a second that someone else was commanding her team – or worse, being given orders that revolved around her platoon.

“I certainly hope so. How are you today, Rashida?”

Fareeha saw her reaction through the reflection on the glass. The nurse seemed taken aback, like she wasn’t expecting someone like Fareeha to ask that. She cleared her throat.

“Well, I’m fine. My shift is almost over, so is there anything you need before I take off?” 

With a shake of her head, Fareeha turned around to face her.

“I could use a less-revealing shirt.” She was more joking than anything, but it was true enough. Fareeha wore a black tank-top that had the word “ARMY” written on the back of it, in Arabic. The bottom half of it was rolled up to her ribs, as to not put any unwanted pressure on her wound.

Rashida offered a sweet grin. She understood Fareeha’s request, but she also knew that she couldn’t fulfil it.

“You know the rules, Sergeant. Not until that wound is not as tender. We wouldn’t want to rupture any of your sutures, now would we?”

Fareeha quickly nodded. She glanced to the television that was placed in the right corner of the room – if you were laying down on the bed, that is.

“Some speculation has said that Overwatch recently operated within Egyptian boundaries, as well. While these may only be rumors, and no evidence has been provided on this, it certainly raises a few questions,” One woman on the network said.

A few people sharply dressed up in suits and dresses sat around a table, having some sort of debate over Overwatch, Fareeha speculated. She watched as they went back and forth, with Rashida cleaning off the folding table.

“I could make up a rumor about how I saw Jack Morrison himself in a pub in London, and I’d have the same amount argument as you. What makes you think Overwatch is operating in Egypt? More importantly, why would they go behind the Egyptian Government’s back in their own territory, especially after their last engagement?”

“They’re there for Talon! It’s it obvious? Overwatch was there when Null Sector hit Egypt, so why wouldn’t they try and do something for when Talon shows up?”

“Because they’ve already faced enough backlash over their last incident. The last thing they want is another incident. People are rioting over them. They want their heads. If you steal candy from a store, and the candy store owner says if you steal again, he’ll call the police, would you go back? No! You know there would be consequences if you did. That’s what Overwatch is thinking. They know their time’s coming up.”

Fareeha’s eyebrows pushed together as closely as they could. That last comment angered her. Why would the people want Overwatch gone? What good what it do for the world? 

“Overwatch is the one reason you and I are still here,” Fareeha accidently voiced. That was meant to stay in her head. She rarely gave her opinion with anything political.

Rashida didn’t turn to face her. She had a job to do, and could chat while working.

“Well, I think they know that. I don’t think anyone believes that Overwatch did anything less than save our lives, but now they seem to be getting into more trouble than they are doing good. Perhaps they need more rules – more regulations to set their own boundaries. They cannot simply run off and be heroes whenever they feel like it.”

Fareeha lowly sighed through her nostrils. Overwatch did more good than people thought they did, but when there isn’t a clear enemy to fight anymore, people begin to start asking questions. The cycle had been repeated all throughout history. Fight the bad guy, be loved for a while, then start having people want you hanged. Overwatch didn’t deserve the hate they were receiving.

“Well, I think that is it. Are you sure there isn’t anything you need.”

“No,” Fareeha muttered. She removed her eyes from the television, and went right back to the window, where her thoughts could overtake her mind once more.

“Very well, then. I’ll see you tomorrow, Fareeha.”

She heard Rashida begin to take her leave, then the door closed behind her. Once again, she was left alone, idly drowning out the sounds of the news station.

The only perception of time that she had now was the remainder of the sun that was starting to set. She quietly muttered a prayer under her breath, saying thanks for her room facing the west. The streets slowly became more and more busier as people began to get off work and return to their homes. They got to see their families every day, something they most likely took for granted.

What she wouldn’t give to see her own mother. Or Reinhardt. She secretly looked up to him more than some of the others. Back home – her real home, in Egypt, she had a poster of him hung up on her wall. He’s much younger in the poster, but still holds the same amount of courage and charisma to this day.

Reinhardt was the perfect example of a real man. At least, in her mind he was. Germany did right to choose him for the Crusaders.

Another knock at the door brought her back to her senses. Rashida most not have fully finished up, she guessed. Only, another knock followed up after nothing was said.

“The door is still unlocked, Rashida,” Fareeha called out. She heard the door open again; someone quietly entered, with much less authority she could tell. Rashida, in the few days she knew her, always made sure to announce her entry.

“Fareeha?” A more feminine voice asked.

Fareeha saw a faint hue of blonde in the reflection. She could feel the air being punched out of her lungs. Turning around to greet her guest, she opened her mouth to speak, but found nothing in the way of anything comprehensive.

“Angela, you, uh. . . you came,” Fareeha managed to sputter out.

She noted that Angela wore no Overwatch symbols on her clothing. In fact, she seemed much more civilian, being dressed in a beautiful blue dress that modestly went down to just above her kneecaps. She had on a set of black 1-inch heels, that clacked with every step she made.

“I promise you I would, after all.”

Fareeha found herself stuttering again. It seemed rather out of character, but under the circumstances of the last time they met, she never really had time to take in the reality that was Angela being there with her. Now that she did, she realized that there were no bullet casings at their feet, no blood stains in the seat behind her, and almost certainly no rifle in her hands.

It was just her and Angela, alone, like how things used to be when they talked. Minus the stab wound.

“No, I-I know. I just thought you would be too busy. I would have understood if you were.”

The television cut in again. Fareeha forgot to mute it.

“Omnic and Human peace-rallies are being held in London, as the looming thought of a Null Sector attack on the capital becomes more and more real. The organization has shown no intentions of making peace with humanity, and have already begun strikes in retaliation for the continuous treatment of their people.”

Angela’s eyes darted to the television. She knew of Null Sector, of course. They were starting to make a much bigger name for themselves.

Fareeha immediately went for the remote, opting to only turn it down instead of fully muting it, just in case they mentioned Overwatch again. While she never cared for their opinions on the group, she almost certainly wanted to hear any updates having to do with them.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were coming by. Are you going somewhere else?”

Angela’s eyes fixed back onto Fareeha, now expressing a much more confused look. She made her way to one of the cushioned chairs next to the bed and went ahead and sat down, setting her hands in her lap. Fareeha sat on the bed across from her, arms folded across her chest.

“No, no. Aside from my hotel room, I do not believe I’ll be going anywhere else tonight. Why do you ask?”

Fareeha felt her cheeks flush. She had hoped Angela would have caught on to the referring of her sharp attire. Either she hadn’t, and was genuinely confused, or she was toying with Fareeha and wanted her to say it for herself.

“Well, you look too nice to just be visiting me, I suppose is what I meant.”

“Don’t be so modest, Fareeha. You deserve the best after what you did.”

Angela gestured to the bandage neatly wrapped at Fareeha’s side. Her eyes showed a worried expression, but not enough to warrant any audible concern.

Fareeha twiddled her fingers together. It never seemed like much to her, but supposedly in the eyes of her superiors, what she did was something else. Impressing people wasn’t what was on her mind at the time of the incident. Completing the objective, at any cost, was.

“Well, if you say so.” Fareeha felt a pause in the conversation. She knew it was from her end. Social interaction, for the past few years, always came second nature. Often times, she’d talk one-on-one with her squad, fellow team-leaders, and Lieutenant Masih, she never talked to too many people.

“How has Overwatch been treating you, Angela?”

Angela carefully paused, thinking over the question. She was looking for a much more truthful answer to her question. Overwatch had been something. . . else, over the most recent years.

“I’m not too sure, Fareeha. I’m sure the news never hesitates to inform you of our mistakes, and there are many mistakes to be had. Even entering Egypt for our most recent operation was risky. We find ourselves hated more every day that passes. Our operations grow more violent, and people don’t know whether we are different from the people we swore we’d protect them from.”

Fareeha noticed a pauce in Angela’s voice. The tone lowered, her eyes no longer focusing on the woman in front of her.

“Even I have begun to question the nature of our mission. It used to be so clear. It seems our objective has been lost throughout the years.”

Angela stood up from her chair and silently strode over to the bed. She sat down next to Fareeha and stared out the window.

“Things used to be so simple. I can’t help but wish we could go back, but there are too many people in our current time that need our help.”

Fareeha wordlessly listened to her speak. She took each word in as if it would have been the last she’d hear Angela ever speak, just in case she magically dropped dead tomorrow. At least she got to enjoy these moments right here, right now, with one of the most important people in her life.

“Even people here. Perhaps not in Cairo, but certainly in Egypt. One day I’ll be sure to come here and help them out myself.’

“Angela, concerning yourself with the people of my country is only going to cause you more trouble. My people have always seen conflict. As much as I’m sure they would appreciate your help, there are countless things you could do that would be just as effective. Allow me to worry about them, yes? You worry for yourself.”

Angela appeared indifferent. She turned to Fareeha, eyeing every detail outlined on her face. She was right, she did look similar to Ana. Only. . . better, in a sense. Angela couldn’t quite put her finger on what made her believe that.

“Please. Without helping others, what more can I do? My whole life has been built to assist those that are not as fortunate as others.”

Fareeha understood that all too well. The idea of dedicating your life to the protection of others as all that she had. She could relate to Angela more than she realized. Except, it was much more different to imagine someone else putting their own life above others.

“Maybe you don’t have to only do that. You used to work in that hospital, right? In Switzerland? You could go back to doing that. You’d be helping people still.”

The idea made Angela contemplate for a moment – but only for a moment. Her mind had been made up for quite some time.

“I can’t. Leaving Overwatch is not the right choice. I must stay with them. People still need us, whether they wish to admit it or not.”

Angela leaned her head down. She laid it across Fareeha’s right shoulder and shifted her torso, pressing her body into Fareeha’s. Her eyes shut like she was about to go to sleep right then and there.

Fareeha felt her heart skip. The air in her lungs tightened in an all too familiar feeling. It was difficult to breathe all of a sudden, like her lungs refused to do their job. Her shoulder was mostly bare, which meant she could feel Angela’s cheek against her skin. She noted how soft she felt, almost like a baby’s bottom.

Come to think of it, she’d never felt a baby’s bottom. Never held a baby, even. Maybe it was for the best. Her hands were trained to kill, not to hold something so precious as a child.

“Angela?” Fareeha murmured.

A softly spoken “Yes?” came as her response.

“Are you well?” Fareeha worded carefully. It was a simple enough question.

“No, Fareeha, I really am not.”

She heard the audible discord in Angela’s tone. It was difficult to be such an important person, admittedly. So many people knew her name; so many people expected her to be a miracle worker. To be that trusted almost certainly had to weigh down on someone’s conscious.

Fareeha took her hand and set it on Angela’s knee. She rubbed her palm against it in a more assuring manner. She continued to stare down at the blonde hair that clouded her right shoulder, wanting nothing more than this moment to last forever.

“I’m sorry, Angela, truly. I can’t imagine the amount of stress that you go through. I just know if you weren’t there, though, the stability of Overwatch would crumble. Reyes and Morrison both need you. They trust you more than they trust each other, I would bet. And I wouldn’t want anyone else to be out there with my mother, helping keep her alive. Without you, Angela, some of them wouldn’t be above ground today. So, truly, thank you. Thank you for being as incredible as you are, and for keeping the people I love alive.”

Fareeha hadn’t realized how sincere she was talking until she finished. It had without a doubt been more than a year since she spoke like so. This was one of those rare moments that former military members speak about how they slowly brought back their civilian life back into their everyday life.

“You know, Fareeha,” Angela began. She rose her head up and looked Fareeha in the eyes. “I really missed you.”

Fareeha’s lips upturned. She offered a slow nod of her head.

“You’ve said that before, you know,” She jokingly teased. She witnessed the color in Angela’s cheeks brighten to a light red.

“Right. . . thank you for reminding me of that. That was unbearably embarrassing. Here I was almost starting to forget about it, as well.”

“I wish you had seen my face when you said that. I genuinely had no idea what to say. I thought that I did something to upset you, and you didn’t want to speak to me for so long.”

Angela’s eyelashes fluttered briefly. She leisurely grinned, flashing her pearly white teeth.

“I’m not sure you could ever do that, Fareeha.”

There was something about the way Angela stared into Fareeha’s eyes that made her feel lighter than the air itself. Her deep blue eyes pierced Angela’s chocolate brown, held into a deep stare that locked the two together. Now was the moment she only heard about in movies, where the signal was unreasonably obvious.

Fareeha was the first to lean in. Call it her heart taking over the feelings she’s had for years, but this was something she had been wishing to happen for longer than she could remember. Her eyes slowly began to shut, as her lips parted. Angela copied her movement, shutting her eyes immediately afterward. The two of them inched closer until pink lips met each other. Saliva was exchanged between one another, strands of the liquid catching between themselves. With each time their lips reconnected after pulling apart, Fareeha could feel Angela’s tongue against her own.

She seriously wanted this night to end.

Her hand went from Angela’s knee up to her stomach, where her fingers casually brushed against the silky dress that covered her skin. Their lips pulled apart for one final time. Fareeha brought her head down and rested her forehead against Angela’s. Neither one of them spoke immediately after. Fareeha could still feel saliva against her lips and she was positive it wasn’t her own.

Angela shakily inhaled. She could tell that something was wrong by the way her lip quivered.

“You lost so much blood, Fareeha. . .”

“Hey-“

“I was scared. I was so damn scared.”

“Angela, you-“

“I haven’t been so scared for so long. Then I had to go tell your mother about it, like I was some person delivering a letter to the family of a dead soldier. Even when I saw you in that car, I felt awful. The amount of blood-“

Fareeha cut her off with a swift peck on her lips. She brought the hand on her stomach up to rest it against Angela’s cheek, idly rubbing her thumb against her smooth skin.

“Angela, you do not need to say any more than you already have. I did not mean to stress you. These things happen, and while I know that saying that doesn’t make any of it any easier, I’m still here with you. Amari’s are hard to kill.” Fareeha only joked on the last bit. It was something she thoroughly believed, however. Amari’s were always tough.

Angela sighed. She moved to lay her head against Fareeha’s chest while she calmed herself down. This gave her a bit of a new perspective on their latest intimacy. She could feel Fareeha’s heart beating faster than she could’ve ever imagined. The thought of Fareeha getting genuinely excited over such a small thing like a kiss made her heart skip a beat.

Although, to Fareeha, she guessed it most likely wasn’t only a small thing. A cute smile found its way over Angela’s mouth. She could feel Fareeha’s hands now creep down her back, feeling the tips of her fingers scrape alone the dress. A tingling sensation immediately crawled across her spine.

“I wish I could promise that we could turn this into something real, Fareeha. I really do, but unfortunately, I just. . . I don’t know if it would. We’d never see each other, and I’m not sure how anyone else would react to it.”

Fareeha only continued to rub her hands up and down Angela’s back. The pain that was in her side was completely neutralized thanks to the adrenaline coursing throughout her body. She laid her chin at the top of Angela’s head and shut her eyes.

She wasn’t concerned about the long run. Holding her right here, right now, was the only thought on her mind.

The room went silent once more, aside from the lowly-volume of the television. It caught Fareeha’s attention, given that it was the only thing making noise now. She stared and watched blankly as a recording of Awlad Ilyas being fought over. Tracer rounds flooded the night sky. Arabic voices cried out in pain, something she was able to interpret – Angela, perhaps not.

Angela brought her head up. She pulled away from Fareeha and brushed the hair out of her face, sniffling softly. Her hands travelled down to her heels and carefully pulled them off, then set them neatly next to the chair she previously sat at. Fareeha cocked an eyebrow, as she watched Angela stand back up from the bed and move over to the seat. Angela lifted her legs up and pushed her knees against her chest, settling into the cushion comfortably.

“Is it all right if I stay here for the night? I’m rather jet-lagged.”

Fareeha thought better than to question the idea of renting out a hotel room, only to stay in a hospital for the night. She’d enjoy the company for the night, anyway.

“You’re more than welcome to stay, Angela. I, uhm-“ Fareeha searched inside her duffle bag and produced a neatly folded fatigue top, with the identification of “AMARI” sewed into the left breast area. She offered the top to Angela, who most graciously accepted the extra bit of clothing. She threw it over her shoulders and ran her arms into the sleeves, securing it over her body. She zipped it up over her dress, deciding that staying warm over-night was more important than looking good.

“I hate to cover up your dress, but these hospital rooms grow colder at night. I wouldn’t want you to be cold.”

Angela nodded, understanding the notion regardless of its explanation.

“Thank you,” Angela started. The only reason Fareeha didn’t immediately respond was because her gut told her that there was going to be a follow-up to the thanks. Sure enough, she was right; Angela’s eyes locked onto the ground, as if she felt guilty.

“Was that right, Fareeha?”

Fareeha tilted her head, deciding to lay back on the bed. It wasn’t all that late, but she felt an overpowering sense of tiring run throughout her body. She turned her head to the side, so she could focus on Angela while she spoke to her.

“It felt right. Is something wrong?”

“No, only. . . ever since I saw you on that interview, I had a feeling that I could never quite understand. No one else had triggered it, and I only felt it when I saw you. I always figured it to be guilt for not keeping in touch with you.”

Fareeha didn’t speak. She understood what the feeling was, but decided not to elaborate on it. Angela had to understand it for herself.

“Would you be willing to give me some time? Just so I can figure it out for myself. I promise you I’ll be able to answer just what this is.”

“You may have as long as you need,” Fareeha assured. She noticed how quickly Angela was beginning to drift off. She might have been more tired than either one of the imagined.

Fareeha never doubted that this week alone must have been especially tiring for her. She needed the sleep. Fareeha wasn’t going to bother her.

Angela adjusted her seated position, so that her legs went sideways and she laid her head down neatly. Something indistinguishable slipped from her mouth, making Fareeha question just what she was trying to say.

Recollecting the events that happened not too long ago sent a shiver down her spine. She never thought that Angela would ever consider getting so close to her. A dream come true, in all honesty. Things were starting to look up.

She prayed this would turn into something much more.

* * *

The Switzerland headquarters calmed down. Knowing that they weren’t about to be exposed to the public certainly helped calm people’s nerves. All the public has was rumors, and rumors weren’t enough to take action on.

Morrison stared out on the horizon. The chilling breeze did well to calm him down. In truth, he always found the sounds of working men and women to be relaxing. Silence meant no one was doing anything, and not doing anything meant there were people out there getting away with violence. Working men and women meant Overwatch was still alive, damn it.

Back when the Omnic War ended, the citizens of Switzerland erected a statue of him right smack in front of the building. He never asked them to. He wishes they never did. It was a constant reminder of how the people used to view Overwatch compared to how they did now.

He couldn’t help but wonder where they went wrong.

“Standing out in the open makes you a perfect target, y’know,” a gravelly voice called out behind him.

“They won’t kill me that easily,” Jack retaliated.

The voice stepped next to him. Gabriel Reyes leaned his arms against the metallic railing and joined Jack on his break.

“You hear anything from Fareeha?” Gabriel didn’t bother to look at Jack. Jack didn’t either. The two spoke while staring forward.

“Not from her personally, but the doctors assure me that she’ll recover quickly. Doctor Ziegler requested permission to go personally visit her.”

“And what’d you say?”

“Yes.”

Gabriel nodded his head ever-so-slightly. While he wished he could have gone down to see her, he knew that he couldn’t take a break. Ziegler was an exception. She’d done a lot for Overwatch, that one small break was more than welcome for her.

“And what about Ana?”

“What about her?”

Gabriel snorted a disbelieving puff of air out of his nostrils. He knew that Jack understood what he meant.

“How’s she feeling?”

Jack jerked his head back towards the door. His eyes never once met Gabriel. He found it increasingly harder to call Gabriel a friend. Knowing that hit him harder than he could’ve imagined. Going from calling him a brother to not knowing if he could trust him or not did a good job of messing with his brain.

If he couldn’t trust Gabriel, who could he trust?

“She’s getting over it. Constantly reminds herself that she can’t do anything to protect her daughter anymore. I can’t imagine that makes her feel any better, but who am I to know?”

“Wouldn’t make me feel any better, that’s for damn sure. Fareeha’s one tough son of a bitch, but I think she’s got a problem.”

Jack cocked an eyebrow. He finally turned to face Gabriel, this time with a look of confusion plastered on his face. 

“And what’s that?”

“You know how it goes, Jack. She grows up around a buncha’ badasses, her mom teaches her to be a badass, then suddenly Ana says that she doesn’t want her doing what we do? I think she’s trying to prove herself. Prove she’s got what it takes to be one of us, man. I read the after-action logs. Her squad said that she stayed behind so they could get away. Killed 6 men, too. She even got stabbed, took her handgun out, killed the guy that stabbed her, then pulled the knife out and walked it off. You don’t see any normal soldier doing that shit, Jack.”

Jack silently agreed. He could understand why she’d want to prove herself in combat, especially after seeing all of them do so well with it. In a way, he could sympathize with her. Jack would’ve most likely done the same thing in her shoes.

“I think she needs a reminder that she’s not us, Jack.”

“Overwatch, or you and I?”

“Me ‘n you.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Well, for starters, we’re freaks. You ‘n me don’t die as easily as others. A stab wound would hardly even slow us down. If she’s trying to compare herself to us, it’s a pretty easy decision to who is better.”

“I don’t think she’s trying to compare herself to us, Gabriel.”

“You think she wants to be Ana, then?”

“Maybe not exactly like Ana, but close enough. You’ve got to remember that everyone she’s ever been around is widely regarded as heroes. That puts a certain level of pressure on someone to be the best she can be. I don’t think she’s trying to be like Ana; I just think she’s trying to be someone.”

Gabriel nodded. He agreed with Jack – only, he always believed she was too much like Ana. She may have hung out with a lot of them, but she was the one that rubbed off on her the most. She was Fareeha’s mother. Why wouldn’t she try to maintain the Amari legacy?

“She’s doing a pretty damn good job at it, then. Half of fuckin’ Egypt knows who she is. Practically turned her into a propaganda machine, man. I’m sure that no one outside of her unit and Overwatch knows she’s been stabbed.”

Jack contemplated Gabriel’s words. The idea of having nobody else know she was wounded was almost insulting. She wasn’t a god. Fareeha was a soldier, and the people deserved to know if one of their own was wounded. It wasn’t his country, though, and more than likely the Egyptian Government wouldn’t take his word for anything anymore.

“You think she’s willing to get herself killed over it?”

“Nah. The way I see it, an’ the way I think she sees it, too, is she’s much more important alive than dead. She’ll put her life on the line, but I know for a fact she wouldn’t die to make a name for herself. Fareeha’s the type of person that just wants to help people, and at the same time, also wants to be someone people can look to for hope.”

“Well, I guess that’s true. Reminds me of Ana back in the day. Or, hell, even Ana now.”

Gabriel offered a faint grin. He could appreciate the moments when the two of them spoke without any political bullshit in the air. It reminded him of their time in the Army, when the only things they had to worry about were robots with huge machine guns.

Now it’s robots with huge machine guns, terrorist groups, and the riots in the streets.

Almost as if it were on cue, Ana came walking outside. She slid next to Jack and pressed her hip into the railing.

“Well, look at this. Jack and Gabriel talking like two adults. I never thought I’d see the day,” she wisely cracked. 

Jack rolled his eyes. Gabriel’s smirk stayed on his face.

“Yeah, kinda’ rare,” Gabriel jokingly stated. He was glad to see Ana cracking jokes and talking normally again. He could tell how ever since she witnessed Fareeha on the news, there was something up with the way she spoke.

“So, what’s the topic for today?”

Both Jack and Gabriel hesitated. Informing Ana that they were speaking of her daughter was the worst decision they believed they could make. The last thing they wanted to do was upset her even more.

“The weather,” Jack spoke in an attempt to break the silence.

He realized Ana didn’t believe that. It was quite obvious in the way her eyebrows furrowed together annoyingly.

“You two finally decide to sit one-on-one and have a real conversation, and it is on the weather? Okay, Jack. You don’t have to lie to me.”

“We’re talking about Fareeha,” Gabriel butted in. He wasn’t one for beating around the bush, anyway.

Ana’s eyes went down to the ground for a second, then focused back on the others.

“Has there been any word on her condition? The last I heard was about her being transferred to a hospital in Cairo for further treatment.”

“We haven’t heard anything, nope. Ziegler asked to go visit her, and I said she could. I figured Fareeha could use the company. Plus, she seemed genuinely worried about her. I know she couldn’t help but blame herself for the shit that happened lately. No point in not killing two birds with one stone, you know?”

“Angela asked to go visit her?” Ana inquired. While it came as no surprise that she did, it was more-so the idea of her going so quickly that caught her off guard. It had only been a week, and she was already gone.

“Yeah, she did. My guess is she’ll probably stay with her until she’s back on her feet. Don’t think that’ll be too long, either. Your daughter’s one tough S.O.B., Ana.”

“Of course. Every Amari is properly trained in combat from an early age. The idea of her not being so tough would be insulting to our legacy as a family.”

Gabriel smirked. He shook his head with a quiet chuckle under his breath. “It’s funny, Ana, I was thinkin’ that exact same thing.”

“Then you know our family well, Gabriel. It’s not the ideal life I had for her, but if it’s the one she wants for herself, then I will not deny her that.”

Jack rose an eyebrow. She certainly caught his attention with that. For a long time, Jack was under the assumption that Ana was always furiously against the idea of Fareeha becoming some great warrior.

“You changed your mind on all that, then? Maybe the two of you should actually make up, then.”

“Mmm,” Ana muttered. It was never her decision to be on bad terms with her daughter. It naturally came to the both of them.

“I don’t believe there is any making up that needs to be done, Jack. There comes a point in every child’s life where they must challenge the authority of their parents and make decisions for themselves. I offered my advice to Fareeha, and was sure to mention how I was not supportive of her wish. She made her own decision. I will not deny her of her own freedom. Only until she understands my point of view will her and I go back to how we used to be. Perhaps it’s something that only a parent can understand.”

Gabriel shook his head once more, this time more disbelieving than anything. 

“Nah, my dad told me something similar to that way back when I was just a lil’ boy. Said it was something to do with becoming a man. Him and I don’t talk much anymore, though. Hope that doesn’t happen to you.”

“In truth, I do not believe it will. Fareeha will come to understand why I said the things I did. I will not force that upon her.”

With a shrug of his shoulders, Gabriel turned to walk away, deciding his social interaction for the day was done.

“You do you, Ana. All I’m sayin’ is that you shouldn’t waste an opportunity to talk with her. You never know how much time you’ve got left on this earth.”

Ana watched as he walked away. She carefully thought over his words, wondering if he believed that Overwatch’s time was truly coming to an end or not. Gabriel had never been one to be unbelievably pessimistic, and if he was, he was usually right to be.

“What do you think he meant by that?”

“I think he meant you better try and fix your shit before you drop. We’re not invincible, Ana. If you’re content with dying while being on the bad side with your daughter, then you go ahead.”

Ana shut her eyes, clasping her hands together. She turned her body to the left, facing the horizon.

“No, Jack, I am not. How can I make such a decision for her, though? How can I press my way into her life?”

“It’s not about pressing your way into her life, Ana. It’s about just being there for her.”

Ana rested a palm against her cheek. She reopened her eyes and joined Jack in staring onwards, into the chilling trees of Switzerland. She said nothing for a good, long while. She really didn’t know what to say.

“I get it’s hard. It’s not about being just a mentor or whatever it is you’re trying to be. She’s got plenty of those around, anyway. Hell, she’s even got her own father to go to if she wants a parent.”

Jack reached up and set a hand on her shoulder, offering a friendly squeeze in a reassuring manner.

“You’re the most important person in her life, Ana. More important than me, or Gabriel, or Reinhardt, or Angela, or anyone else in her life. You’re probably the only person in her life that could really change her mind on anything. She needs you. Think about everything you’ve ever done in your life for her. You think she doesn’t realize the sacrifices you’ve made for her? Hell, that’s probably why she’s trying to prove herself like she is – to make sure that all the shit you did for her wasn’t in vain.”

While Ana realized he was right, it still didn’t help to hear. It only reassured the things she was more scared of. Fareeha trying to prove herself was only a recipe for disaster.

People do dumb things when trying to be a hero.

“I know, Jack. Trust me. I just wish that there was more I could do for her.”

“The only thing you can do for her at her age, Ana, is be there for her. She’s going to lose people. Her squad lost someone in a previous attack. I don’t know if it got to her or not, but I’ve been there for myself. It’s tough to lose people under your command. Makes you feel like a piece of shit. Like you’re responsible for their death. I know you know how it feels, too, so it’s not like it’s a rare feeling. Use that experience you’ve got and put it to good use, all right?”

“I will, Jack.”

Jack took his hand away and leaned his forearms against the railing.

“At least it’s a nice view. I’m glad we decided on Switzerland.”

Ana let off a quiet laugh. Jack always had a way of making her feel better, in a way that no one else could – except for Reinhardt. Come to think of it, Reinhardt was always quite the gentleman. No one could be upset if Reinhardt was around.

“Indeed, it is. Thank you for everything.”

“You don’t need to thank me for anything, Ana. That’s what family’s for. Hey – come to think of it, what’s your husband up to, anyway?”

Ana rubbed at her chin. A good question. They hardly kept up anymore – it was more like they stayed together just because they had a child together.

That was a sad thought. Christ, it was depressing. She remembered Sam to be full of life, always the kind of guy to make her smile. Once she joined the Army, things certainly changed. She stayed mostly in Egypt, while Sam – well, he was in Canada. Two completely opposite places on Earth. There was never an official divorce. Ana didn’t even know if she wanted one, or if he did either.

“I. . . don’t know. He is living in Canada. I believe still works as a senator?”

“You don’t keep up with him?”

Ana frowned. She always meant to, but never could find the time to write him a letter, or even give him a call.

“No. He and I are not. . . I suppose we’re not very active in our marriage.”

“Does Fareeha even know him?”

“Mmm. Not very well, I’d say. She knows who he is, and what he does, but that is essentially it. She was always more interested in my side of the family, anyway. I’m sure you know; the last name Amari is mine.”

“Of course. Quite the name to be proud of.”

“Why is it that you never decided to have kids, Jack?”

Jack let out a lowly chortle. Admittedly, he found the topic quite amusing.

“Kids were never my style. They just added weight on your conscious. Plus, I could never figure out if the shit they pumped into us would’ve affected my kids or not. Never thought I’d take the risk. Reyes always wanted kids, that much I know. Never got any – most likely never will. Not at our age.”

“We’re not old, Jack.”

“Speak for yourself. I’m starting to feel my age nowadays.”

Ana snickered loudly. She pat him on the shoulder and leaned off the rail. Her time out there was coming to an end. There was always work for her to be doing – work for Jack, too, but if he was taking a break, it was most likely needed.

“Don’t stay out here too long, Jack. The last thing you’d want is to catch a cold. And. . . maybe one night I’ll take us out to dinner. You, Gabriel and I, like how we used to do.”

Jack continued to stare out on the horizon. He spoke to her without meeting her eyes.

“That’d be nice. Can’t go too far out, though. Don’t want to start a fight when people see us.”

“Not everything we do will always end in a fight. We can take risks in our civilian life once in a while.”

He listened to the sound of the doors opening behind him, and what he guessed to be Ana walking inside. Jack was left alone again, something he came to slowly regret over time. He knew that one day his time would come, and both Ana and Gabriel would go on without him. It wouldn’t be easy, though.

Talon may try their best to slowly bring Overwatch down, and even with this group “Null Sector” rising up, they still weren’t going to be enough to stop him. They’d learn a lesson that the trio taught too many times.

Old soldiers are hard to kill.


	8. Once More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edfu, a major city in Egypt, is under attack by Talon forces. The Egyptian Army has had enough with these terrorist's actions, and now they're putting a stop to them. Fareeha and her team are sent in to help repel the invaders, but soon find out that Talon is more than a small threat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would've posted this yesterday, but yesterday was my birthday and I was out almost all day (just realized it's 4:26 AM so yesterday wasn't my birthday, but actually 2 days ago).
> 
> I really wanted to say thank you to the people that continuously read this, and to the new folks that are just discovering my story. I'm almost certainly not a professional writer, but I really do enjoy it. If you guys like them, I promise I'll keep at it.
> 
> So, that's it. Just a big thank you to everyone reading! (Currently 1391 hits! Good God!) You guys have no idea how much it means to me, knowing you guys are reading still.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this new chapter.

After a month of poking and prodding, making sure nothing went wrong with her recovery, Fareeha was sent back to the front lines with her platoon. Things were different this time around. Her squad mates began to notice a few things different with the way she spoke to them. She seemed almost. . . happier, in a sense. Something about the way she walked with more beat to her steps.

New orders came in immediately after she was reinstated. People guessed that they waited for her to get back, personally – as if they were too nervous to operate without her. Nobody ever admitted it, though. It’d make them seem weak.

Now, awaiting further orders, her squad idly fiddled with their equipment in anticipation. Nobody ever asked about what it felt like to be stabbed. They knew that it was most likely a sensitive subject for her. The idea of having a blade gutted in you is almost too difficult to think about.

Fareeha sat in the passenger seat of the RG-32, while Soliman rested his eyes just next to her. Naser was on top of the car, oiling up the heavy machine gun’s inner components. Both Haik and Nazari leaned against the left side of the vehicle, chatting about something related to Talon’s recent pushes inside of Edfu. Knowing Talon was about to take such a major area didn’t do so well on the troop’s morale.

“You know what I think?” Nazari piped up.

Fareeha carefully listened in to their conversation, but didn’t interrupt them. She thought it was important to keep tabs on how well her squad was doing outside of combat.

“Let me guess: you think that we should have already pushed them out of the country, and off the damn continent,” Haik sarcastically quipped. She knew enough of Nazari to know that he was too gung-ho for logical thought.

“You’re damn right I do. There is absolutely no reason for them to still be here, and to even think that they’re coming this close to taking Edfu is insulting, frankly.”

“And that’s why you’re not an officer, Nazari. We can’t just push them out of Egypt as easily as you think.”

Nazari seemed almost insulted. His eyebrows pushed down and together, showing his anger in more ways than one. “And why is that?”

Haik rolled her eyes. “Because there are families in the towns they take, idiot. We cannot go rolling through villages and wage all out war. Unless you want to be the one soldier that gets the entire platoon punished because you mistakenly shot a pregnant woman instead of a terrorist?”

“I trust my aim enough to know that I would never do such a thing,” Nazari quickly retaliated. He fully believed her argument was not strong enough to sway his opinion.

Fareeha turned her head to the left, facing the two’s direction. “It’s more than going through and killing people, Nazari. What Talon wants is for us to go destroy our own cities, villages, towns – whatever. All it does it make this easier for them.”

“Our army is competent enough to check their fire, Sergeant. The people trust us, so why would we let them down?”

“Don’t be so sure. Even the best shot can make a mistake.”

“Except your mother,” Naser exclaimed from the top. His comment made Fareeha roll her eyes in annoyance.

“If my mother never made any mistakes, Naser, then this war would have been over much easier. She takes precautions because she knows that she can make them. Admitting to yourself that you’re not perfect is the first step to becoming a logical person,” She said with a sense of pride behind her words. She hoped everyone understood why she believed that.

Fareeha made mistakes of her own. A mistake is what put her in the hospital. So long as a mistake isn’t fatal, then the person has the chance to turn the mistake into something much better.

And oh, man, did her mistake get her something much better.

The hint of a smile creeped up on her face. Fareeha thought back to the moment, back to when she held Angela and did the one thing her heart convinced her would never happen. She made sure to regularly text Angela to keep up with her. She even sent her the occasional picture of herself to calm Angela’s nerves. Nothing was official yet, but she certainly felt as if they had something more together.

“Well, if she makes mistakes, then she barely makes enough to be noticed.”

“It’s not that she barely makes them. She made enough of them before to help prevent her from making more now. Do you understand?”

She watched as Naser slowly bobbed his head up and down, confirming his understanding of the statement. 

“Even still, Sergeant,” Nazari began, pressing his hip against the metallic plating of the driver’s side door,” we could effectively drive them out by the end of the year if we really wanted to. If we’re so worried about civilian casualties, let’s just call for an evacuation of which ever area we plan to move into.”

Fareeha scoffed. History showed that never worked. Making people leave their homes behind only made them angrier than it did to help them. “And where do you suppose we put them?”

“We could make camps for them. Large camps that could house people for a short amount of time.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s a good idea, Nazari,” Haik mocked. “Let’s start putting all of our people into camps while we go kill people. That will certainly win over the people’s hearts and minds.”

“They’ll get over it once they realize that it is the only option we have to winning this. If they don’t like it, they can stay while Talon invades their town, slaughters their wives and children, and eventually come after them.”

“And if we start forcing them to leave their homes and travel somewhere they don’t want to be, and leave their homes full of bodies and bullet casings, they’ll hate both of us.”

“Please,” Soliman stirred in the front, “could you please talk about something happier? How about – I don’t know, the fact that your sergeant’s back in town?”

Fareeha rolled her eyes. She wasn’t looking for the limelight. “Thanks for giving them that idea, Soliman. . .” After resting her rifle forward and between her legs, Fareeha unstrapped her helmet and set it in her lap, running a gloved hand through her silky ebony hair.

Naser spoke up from the top of the vehicle, “Come to think of it, Sergeant, how’d that go? Did you have a lot of needles stuck in you while they patched you up?”

“Yes, Naser,” She bluntly replied, in an almost monotone voice.

“I think what you did was quite brave, Sergeant,” Haik hesitantly said. She leaned the top of her torso inside the driver’s window. Her helmet bumped against the roof of the vehicle.

“What I did was what I expect out of every one of you.” Fareeha’s tone of voice became suddenly more commanding than she usually put on during a casual conversation. “There can be no hesitation out there. If you believe your action will inconvenience your squad or the mission, then you do something else. If I had run out on that street to try and cross to you, I would have been gunned down and you would have been overwhelmed.”

“Damn, Sergeant. You think we couldn’t have done what you did?” Naser jokingly questioned. She noticed the obvious humor in his voice, of course.

“I trust you all enough to know that you could have killed them, but that isn’t the entire issue. You would have been overwhelmed, and in doing so, that man and his family’s life would be put in grave danger.”

“Even still,” Haik butted in, “I’m sure there are many people that could not do what you did. Perks of being an Amari?”

Fareeha glanced to Haik now, quirking an eyebrow. “Not necessarily a perk for just the Amari family. But, thank you.”

The squad went quiet, choosing to listen in on the company-wide transmitter. Information was passed out between platoons, asking for new orders, or if the original orders changed after the 2 hours they had been waiting. Haik sputtered her lips and stared out of the vehicle’s windshield. Nazari was on his phone, idly scrolling through some news article depicting all-out warfare inside Edfu. A night battle ravaged the streets of the city, tracer-rounds streaking the sky.

“All Hotel-1 elements, mount up. We’re heading out in 5-mikes,” the radio called out. Each soldier scrambled to the vehicles and got inside, ready to get moving. Naser let out an audible curse and shook his head, then climbed down into the scout car.

“Something wrong, Naser?” Fareeha inquired. She strapped her helmet back on her head, and lifted her rifle into her hands once more. Her finger carefully stayed above the trigger, even after the safety was already on.

“No, it’s just – stupid gun won’t unjam.” He pulled back on the charging handle as hard as he could. Only after a few more tries did it slide forward, effectively unjamming itself. “Fuck – never mind. It’s all good.”

Fareeha nodded her head. Haik assumed her position behind Fareeha, with Nazari behind Corporal Soliman. The engine turned over once they were all inside, and only after a quiet few minutes did another callout come over the radio.

“All Hotel-1 victors, we’re Oscar-mike. Proceed south at 45 K.P.H. We’re following behind R.C.T. 3 and moving into Edfu. Be advised: civilian presence in the city is still heavy. R.O.E. is to not fire unless you have a positive I.D. on the enemy. Close-Air-Support is limited, but medevac is on stand-by to receive any wounded.”

Once the vehicle in front of him started moving, Soliman began accelerating the car and followed after them. Nobody said anything as they rolled out of the base. The engine and the dirt underneath them being crushed by the tires were they only sounds made. It was going to take a while to get to where they were going. Haik took the time to rest her head back and get a bit of shuteye. Fareeha silently questioned why she waited until they were on the move to do that, but they weren’t likely to run into any hostiles until they neared the city.

The sands of Egypt appeared almost too dark in the night. Southern Egypt was much darker than many other places on Earth, thanks to there being so little light pollution. It was one of the little pleasures she didn’t take for granted. The night sky was too beautiful to pass up an opportunity to revel in.

“It’s quite beautiful, isn’t it?” Soliman directed to Fareeha. He noticed how she was enjoying the view outside of the vehicle.

“Indeed. If you have seen Switzerland at night, it’s hard to decide which one is better. Gibraltar, not so much. While the sky was nice at night, don’t mistake me, compared to here and there.”

“How often did you visit Switzerland?” Nazari questioned from the back. For what it was worth, even after all the flak he got, Nazari was a relatively cool guy once one spoke to him outside of his political beliefs.

“Not often enough, unfortunately. Most of my time was spent in Gibraltar, until I was sent back to Egypt. The time I spent in Switzerland, however, was often spent admiring the view with a few friends of mine. I always found it a little too cold, anyway.”

“Who were your friends?”

Nazari certainly had a lot of questions. She didn’t mind talking about her civilian life, especially if it involved Overwatch, but the others never asked too much.

“The ones I spoke to the most were Doctor Ziegler, Reinhardt Willhelm, Jesse McCree, Gabriel Reyes, Jack Morrison, and a scientist named Winston. They are the ones that often kept my company during my stages of boredom,” Fareeha responded. Thinking back to those names brought a feeling of nostalgia through her mind. It certainly would be nice to talk to them again.

“You were friends with Reyes and Morrison? Holy shit,” Soliman piped up. His eyes went wide upon hearing the news, still focused on the road.

“I’d go as far as to say that they were uncles of mine. I referred to them as Uncle Gabe and Uncle Jack until I turned 16. They are both great people. I am quite proud to admit how close I was to them.”

“Did something happen to them? Do you not feel the same way about them anymore?” Nazari asked, sticking the tip of his rifle barrel out of the window.

“I just grew up, is all. We started to lose touch as we all grew busier. Even Reinhardt and I do not talk as much anymore.” She felt her eyes drift her glance to the floor. It was sad to admit how little she kept in contact with her family.

“What about your father? Was he in Overwatch, as well?”

“No, Nazari, he was not. My father lives in Canada. I have never known too much about him, other than he writes me a letter on every one of my birthdays. Apparently, he and my mother do not keep in touch. I believe he is some sort of government official, though his exact position, I do not know. Any other questions?”

Nazari hesitated. He couldn’t think of anything else he wanted to ask her, so he offered a simple shake of his head. “No, Sergeant, that is all. Thank you.”

“Of course.”

Soliman turned to his right only for a moment, in an attempt to catch Fareeha’s attention. “Hey, Fareeha, tell us a story. What’s your favorite memory of when you used to be with them?”

That was harder to answer than he probably thought it was. She recalled having a great many pleasant memories with the people of Overwatch. To narrow it down to just one was more difficult than even she imagined it to be.

“My favorite memory? That’s a tough one,” She began, straightening her back out. A few cracks rang out as her back was adjusted. “My favorite memory is when my mother was teaching me how to fight one day, with the assistance of Reinhardt. I remember it being a lesson how to deal with an opponent that is much larger than you. She told me to try and get to an area that is harder to reach for them, which is usually the back. So, I climbed up Reinhardt’s back, wrapped my legs around his stomach and put his neck in a choke-hold.”

“You put him in a choke-hold? He’s huge!” Soliman exclaimed. He couldn’t believe his ears, hearing a Crusader be attacked by someone much smaller than them and not immediately crushing them.

“Yes, but it was only training. I promise you, if Reinhardt really wanted to attack, I most likely would not have gotten as far as I did. Regardless, I put him in a choke-hold, squeezed as hard as I could, and he pretended to be choking. He put on a whole show. He did some dance while he fell to the ground, and I remember him screaming something as he began to drop.”

Her lips turned into a smile. She gave a low giggle after thinking back to the memory. In her best imitation of Reinhardt, Fareeha exclaimed: “I have fallen! Avenge me, Ana!”

The sudden jump in volume made Haik open her eyes. Soliman chuckled quietly at her impression of the German warrior. Leaning forward, Haik set a hand on the seat in front of her.

“Is something going on?”

“No. Just telling some stories. Glad to know you’re up, Haik.”

Haik leaned back in her seat, relaxing cautiously after knowing nothing was wrong. Her eyes drooped closed – Fareeha guessed she’d been up for a while. She was a good soldier. She deserved the sleep.

Things went quiet again. Everyone focused on their perimeter, except for Haik. Haik was an exception, though. Naser had been quiet ever since they left the base. He always was a pretty quiet guy when he was on that machine gun. She understood that a position like that required the utmost attention. Any mistake – any failure to spot something could cost the platoon a vehicle, and after the incident with Daher and Nimr, Naser wasn’t looking to mess around.

The close they came to the city, the more wreckages began to appear. Bodies of fallen Talon members lay covered in sand, slowly being overtaken by nature. They’d be covered, and soon enough, forgotten forever.

“Hotel-1, this is Hotel-Actual. As soon as you enter Edfu, you are to take the eastern flank and assist Lima-3 in holding that side of town. Be advised, Hotel-1: Lima-3 has reported some casualties. The task will be difficult, but you are to hold out until we have pushed them out of the city. Good luck. Hotel-Actual, out.”

Fareeha rolled her eyes again, this time at the Captain’s poor choice of words. The last thing you’d want to do when attacking a city is put your men down with the idea of them being injured.

“Listen up!” Fareeha commanded. She rose her weapon up and aimed it out the window, watching the vehicle’s 3 o’clock. Haik jumped at the sudden shout. She adjusted her helmet to make sure it was on tightly. “I know you all heard that. Those Talon bastards don’t know what kind of Hell is coming for them. We will not allow them to take Edfu. This is our time to show them that Egypt will not give in to their violence. Remember: civilians are still in the area, so watch your sectors as soon as we’re inside. Our primary objective is to make sure Talon does not take the city, but if you see any civilians near, let them know that we’re here. They need hope – and we’re going to give it to them. Any questions?”

Simultaneously, 3 voices all exclaimed: “No, Sergeant!” Soliman shot her a thumb up. The two of them had known each other long enough for her to know that he always understood what she said.

She nodded once, peering into her rifle’s scope. The night-vision mode kicked in with a press of a button. Advancement in technology made it so the tunnel vision in the night-vision wasn’t nearly as bad. She could see fairly well, which gave her an edge in night combat.

Tracer rounds illuminated the night sky, red-streaks flying overtop buildings. She knew they were getting into the shit now. As soon as they entered the city’s limits, the lead vehicle followed its orders; they diverted to the left side, leaving R.C.T. 3 by themselves. They’d do well even without the help.

The platoon traversed the streets, those littered with bodies and debris. She saw women, children, even some animals all brutally cut down.

Edfu may not be the same, even if they manage to take it back.

Naser swung his weapon to the left, preparing to fire. “Contact left!” He cried. Fareeha both mentally and physically prepared herself for the idea of a possible engagement.

“Do you have a positive I.D. on the enemy?”

“Shit – yeah, I got 3 of them to our 10!” 

“Hit them,” The sergeant ordered. Thunderous echoes boomed from the heavy machine gun overtop them. She could hear the bullet casings pinging against the top of the roof, a few falling into the vehicle itself. Fareeha trusted her squad enough to know that they wouldn’t fire unless they were shooting at the right people.

The vehicle suddenly diverted right, onto another street that had been barricaded by shot-up armored vehicles. One army soldier laid dead on the ground next to one of them. She knew this was where they had to go.

They came to a halt in the street. “Dismount!” She screamed. The doors to their vehicle popped open, and every soldier inside immediately got out. They took cover in one of the buildings next to them: a 2-story brick house that had sustained more damage than the owner ever wanted it to. A few of the soldiers from Lima-3 were inside, groaning in pain. A few were too injured to continue fighting. Haik immediately went over to their medic.

“Are there anymore?” Fareeha heard Haik asked. She didn’t have time to stop and listen – instead, she immediately went to shouting orders.

“Soliman, Naser, you’re up top. Watch our flank. Nazari, you’re with Haik. I need to find Masih.”

Everyone moved to their positions. Soliman and Naser marched up the stairs and took up positions in the two left windows. Nazari covered the first-floor doorway. Fareeha moved outside and made her way into a building that had been designated as the command building.

Lima-3’s lieutenant was new, young – not that Fareeha wasn’t young. She could tell he was nervous.

“They’ve been hitting us hard all fucking night,” He muttered, rubbing his tired eyes vigorously. She noticed a bloodied bandage covering his right shoulder. “Who even knows how many of them are out there, Masih. They just keep fucking coming.”

Masih set a hand on the young man’s shoulder. With a rough squeeze, he knelt in front of him. “Listen, Gamal, you need to get a head-count going. How many of your people are hit? If they make another push, we need to know what we can expect from your platoon.”

Lieutenant Gamal’s facial expression drooped to a knowing bit of depression. “We’ve had 5 die, Masih. Fucking 5. 6 others have been shot – 3 of which are too injured to move on their own. We’re not exactly at the best performance.”

“Sir,” Fareeha butt in. It caught Masih’s attention.

“What is it, Sergeant?”

“I believe the hostiles we engaged on our way in were scouts. How long has it been since the last major attack?”

Masih eyed Gamal. He nodded to him once. In many ways, Masih was a wiser fellow. He had been denied of a promotion due to an incident early in his career. He always believed that he was a better front-line soldier than some paper-pusher behind a desk, anyway.

“The last attack was close to 2 hours ago, now. You really think they’re preparing for another attack, Amari?”

Fareeha trusted her gut. Why else would they have seen a small group of soldiers that close to them? “I think the option is certainly on the table. They know you have sustained heavy losses. Personally, sir, now is when I would attack.”

Masih sputtered his lips. He stood back up and brought his rifle back around to his chest. “All right, then. Have your men prepare for the possibility of another attack. Get back to your squad, Sergeant.”

After turning around and marching out of the building, Fareeha heard a shot fly over her head. It wasn’t like the movies – it was a deafening crack that made her heart stop. Bits of brick flew onto her face from where the round hit the wall – pieces of the material found its way on her lips.

“Contact!” Someone screamed.

She sprinted to her squad’s building, yelling: “Friendly coming in!”

Nazari offered her a nod as she entered, then raised his weapon back up as she was out of his line of fire. “You all right, Sergeant?”

“I’m all right.” She focused on the wounded inside, lowered her weapon down and knelt next to Haik. “How are they?”

“They will live. They need proper medical attention, though, otherwise the possibility of a further rupture inside their wounds is highly likely.”

Nazari butted in with an exclamation. “Sergeant, I’ve got movement to our front!” He scoped in and began to check it out. “It certainly does look like those Talon bastards. Do we have permission to fire?”

Fareeha stood up from her position next to Haik and jogged over to Nazari. She took up a position behind him, carefully stood over him with her rifle aimed out the doorway. The pair could see down the street, between a small opening that the vehicles left open for troop movement.

“If you can confirm it’s Talon, you’re clear to fire. Show me where they are on the I.R.” She scoped in and made sure the night-vision mode was still activated. From the side of Nazari’s rifle, a small laser pointed in the direction he saw the movement. She examined the area closely, watching for any sort of movement. Suddenly, a couple more lasers pointed to that exact same area, both from different buildings. That indicated that other some other soldiers saw the same thing Nazari did, which only furthered his beliefs in someone being there.

She saw it – a barrel poked out from behind a corner. There were no other reports of friendlies in that area. With her finger now slipping over the trigger, she prepared herself to fire. In an instant, she saw a heavily armored figure came around and exposed most of his torso. Before he could fire, Fareeha, Nazari, and a pair of other soldiers all fired at the same target. Rounds tore into his chest and exited out his back, spewing bits of bone and muscle as they exited. He dropped faster than she’d ever seen.

“Fuck that guy,” Nazari mumbled. Fareeha found a bit of humor in the simple phrase.

“Fuck that guy,” She repeated.

Nazari’s I.R. pointer went to the right, pointing right at another man. The flashes of his rifle barrel blasted through her night-vision. The man had dropped almost as soon as Nazari fired. 

“Keep it up, Nazari.” She offered a simple pat against his helmet for an easy recognition. He shot her a thumb up in exchange. 

Haik spoke up from the back of the building. “Sergeant, shit – this guy’s sutures just popped out,” She declared. Fareeha could hear her talking to the man back there. “I told you not to fucking move too much, damn you.”

“Can you fix that? We may not be able to cross just yet,” The young sergeant asked.

“I’ll need your help!”

Fareeha pat Nazari’s shoulder to let him know she was moving. She rose her gun directly up, then slung it around her shoulder. Haik beckoned Sergeant Amari over. The scene showed a young soldier laid on a wooden floorboard, blood pooling around his abdomen. Haik pressed down on the wound, bloodying up her hands. “Sergeant, the moment I remove my hands, I need you to press down on the wound.”

“Got it,” Fareeha acknowledged. She knew enough about medical care to know what she was doing. Mostly.

She brought her hands over to Haik’s, directly above them, and the moment Haik’s hands pulled away, Fareeha put hers down. The wounded soldier cried in pain, clenching his teeth together. “You will be all right,” she tried to assure him with.

Haik dug into her bag and retrieved some medical supplies from within. A light clicked on and was promptly stuck in her mouth, so she could illuminate the area she needed to, while still using both hands. The first tool she received was a set of tweezers. Her hands lifted while she stared at Fareeha. Her sergeant’s hands went up and away from the wound. Haik precisely used the tweezers to pull out the broken sutures. She needed to open the wound to properly treat the area again. 

Thanks to the sutures now being fully removed from the wound, he began to bleed faster – which was expected. Haik brought a clamp out from her set of tools and clamped down on the bleeding vein, thus slowing the bleeding. She went to carefully remove any foreign objects that may have made it in the wound after the sutures were removed, as to not cause any infection to the area. Once that was finished, she produced a thread and needle to sew up the wound. As the needle pierced the skin, Fareeha could hear the soldier’s crying breaths. A bit of sympathy was felt for the poor man.

“I have the rest of it handled, Sergeant, thank-“

A lowly whistle resonated through the air. Everyone knew what was about to happen. Fareeha ducked down and covered the injured soldier’s top half, while Haik covered the wound and the most of his lower half.

“Mortars!” Fareeha loudly proclaimed.

Booming explosions rocked the ground. Shrapnel flew everywhere, slamming into the walls all around them. She felt her ears ring, now deafened to that around her. Mortars hit the rooftops of the buildings and killed whoever was inside of them. She thanked her lucky stars that none of them hit her squad’s building.

The incoming fire seemed to stop, but what replaced it was only more concerning. She heard an abundance of rifle fire from down the street. Nazari cursed as bullets slammed into the door next to him. Pieces of wood flew everywhere from the impacts. 

“Fareeha, we’ve got a ton of bad guys coming in!” Soliman called from the second story. She stood up and went back to Nazari, patting him again to let him know she was there. Standing over top him, she saw just how bad the mortars hit the area. She let out a silent hope that most of the buildings were empty.

A heavily armored vehicle rolled through the street, soldiers at the back of it. She heard someone from another building scream: “Clear back-blast!”

She knew what was coming right after. A rocket flew out of one of the windows and slammed into the front of the vehicle, disabling it for the better. The blast sent the attackers on their feet, to which the Egyptians all opened fire on the exposed ones. 

“They just keep coming!”

“Let them,” Fareeha grimly put. She felt no sympathy whatsoever towards Talon and their associates. They had no cause – no justification to their actions. She reminded them of the terrorists that ravaged other areas of the middle-east close to a hundred years ago.

At least then things were much clearer.

A fire arose from the impact of the rocket against the armored vehicle. Smoke clouded the sky above them. The woman’s night vision adjusted to the fire, and suddenly the area around her darkened.

Something caught her attention. Fareeha’s ears picked something up that didn’t sound anything like what a normal combat zone. It was to her left – the only thing that was on her left was the street that Talon was trying to push up.

Facing the noise, her scope found its target – a small family hid behind one of their rusted down cars. The hover-mode was out; it laid on the ground, dead. The family was older – the father’s hair had greyed out, and the mother’s eyes were wrinkled with age. The family had two older boys, one that had a fallen soldier’s weapon in his hands. 

A breath of disappointment exhaled out of Sergeant Amari’s mouth. She laid a hand against Nazari’s shoulder and pat twice. He turned his head to the right, glancing to her while still mainly focusing on that in front of him.

“There’s a family outside. I need you with me.”

“Sure, of course, I’m totally all right getting shot for some people I don’t even know.”

Fareeha pushed off his comment. Instead, she ran to the stairs and stood at the bottom of them. A hand went to cover the left side of her mouth, while she screamed: “Naser, get down here! Cover Haik!”

“On it, Sergeant!”

Fareeha ran back to the door and pressed a hand to the door, nodding at Nazari. Naser came down the stairs as soon as Nazari returned the nod.

Pushing the door open, she realized how badly it had been shot up. It came off its handles and fell to the ground, flopping dust where it landed. No time to think – she ran towards the vehicle they hid behind. Rounds pinged all around her – sparks dimly lit the area before they died out. The whole street smelled of iron and gunpowder.

The young boy aimed the rifle at the approaching woman until he realized they were on the same side. She sympathized with him, understanding his duty to protect the people he loves most. 

“You need to get off the street!” Sergeant Amari ordered. Nazari laid out a barrage of automatic fire down the narrow pathway. The car did little to protect the amount of people behind it, but it was better than nothing.

“We cannot move! Our son; he’s hurt!” The mother cried. Fareeha knelt beside to the other boy and saw him holding his hands at his stomach – a gigantic wood splinter stuck in him. Fareeha knew that the internal damage done to him was most likely fatal.

“You have to move! If you don’t, you’ll all be hurt!” She knew it was tough to hear, but it was what they needed. Nazari continued putting rounds down-range until nothing came out. He tucked behind the car and removed another box of ammunition for his weapon.

A direct round slammed into the hood of the car. The frightened family jumped at the sound, which only furthered their case to stay behind.

Knowing that the fire was only going to get worse as time went on, she had to act quickly. She got next to the boy with the rifle and grabbed him by the shoulder. “You need to help your brother stand and escort him back to the northern-side of the city. You cannot stop for anything or anyone that is not a part of the army. Nazari and I will cover your Mum and Dad until you’re safe. Do you understand?”

Shakenly, the boy answered yes. He dropped the weapon and grabbed onto his brother’s shoulders. It was a tough situation, but after standing him on his feet, they began to walk down the street – away from the combat zone. The wounded brother dragged his feet, only being able to stand thanks to the other boy.  
“Nazari, let’s move.”

The pair did their best to cover the family with their protected bodies, but there was only so much they could do. They were trying to spot any kind of silhouette that might have been an enemy – or even a friendly, for that matter.

“You keep moving until you get to the other street! The way should be clear from here! Head to the hospital! We have soldiers there to protect—” 

Fareeha dropped to the ground, pain coursing through her body. She couldn’t breathe – her lungs restricted entirely. The pain originated from the middle of her back, against her plate carrier. She felt herself being dragged, most likely by Nazari, but her vision was too blurry for her to tell.

“Go! Keep moving! I’ve got her!” Nazari’s voice ordered. They found themselves in an alleyway that had no light in it, concealing the pair in darkness.

Rough hands felt around her torso. “You’re not bleeding,” He mumbled, almost unintelligible above the firefight just up the street. He retrieved a piece of smoldering copper and held it up, a sly grin on his face. “Congratulations, Sergeant – you’ve been shot. Can you breathe?”

Fareeha stuttered while she breathed. It pained her to breathe, but it wasn’t a broken rib. Or, at least, she hoped.

Fuck, it hurt.

“Yes. Yes, I can breathe,” her whispered words slipped between her dirty lips. She grabbed what was left of the bullet from Nazari and tucked it away in a chest pocket. “Are they safe? Did they get away safely?”

Nazari rolled his eyes, grabbing her by the shoulder. She stood up with his assistance and pressed her shoulder against the wall. “We need to get back to the rest of the squad. Haik’s got her hands full; she needs—”

“Lieutenant Masih’s been hit!” A voice screamed over the comm-net.

Fareeha went quiet, pressing a hand to her ear-piece. “Wait a second, Nazari. Something’s happening.”

“I say again, Lieutenant Masih’s been hit! We need a medic to the command-building right now!”

She grabbed her rifle and rolled her shoulders, deciding the pain was better off dealing with later. “The lieutenant’s been hit. Let’s move.”

Nazari’s eyes opened wide. He couldn’t believe it at first, but knew that there was nothing he could do except follow his orders. He stuck behind Sergeant Amari as they moved back down the street.

Fareeha fired a few rounds while they moved – nothing accurate, just something for the enemy to realize that they were still in the fight. The rounds hit next to one of the Talon hostiles, putting him back in cover. That gave them enough time to sprint towards the building their squad held up in.

“Friendlies coming in!” Fareeha exclaimed, stepping over the door that still laid on the ground. 

Naser lowered his rifle when they entered, pointing to the man Haik previously tended to. “Haik got him stabilized. She said something about Masih being hit. Couldn’t stay to chat.”

“I heard the report. Nazari, head upstairs. Naser and I will stay down here.” She pointed up to the second floor. Naser pointed his weapon out the door once more, firing a few rounds towards the hostile advancement.

“Sergeant, I don’t see many more of them. Do you think they’re pulling back?” Naser questioned. He addressed his superior without looking at her; instead, he stared down the iron sights on his weapon.

“They may be. They know they won’t be taking the flank anymore. That vehicle is blocking their path. They won’t be able to get anything else down this street.”

She approached the wounded soldier behind the pair and got on one knee. Looking over his wound, she noticed that Haik really did a great job sewing him back up. “How are you feeling?”

“Still hurts like Hell, ma’am,” the man’s hoarse voice answered. She reached for her hydration pack’s mouth piece and leaned his head up. Pressing the piece to his mouth, she allowed the water to flow and refresh his dehydrated throat.

“Just relax, all right? We’re going to get you out of here.”

He leaned back and coughed, saliva shooting up from his mouth. His eyes began to droop until they fully closed. Fareeha silently shook her head. She grabbed onto the soldier’s shoulder and squeezed, holding the grip for a brief few moments. Her own eyes shut, hoping he would really be all right. The last thing she wanted to see was another dead friendly. It began to hurt more than she imagined.

She forced herself to put those thoughts behind her. Thinking about that was only going to bring her out of combat-mode.

Standing up, she brought her rifle back around to her chest and held it tightly. Fareeha approached Naser and pointed down the street, asking: “Any updates?”

Naser shook his head. He pulled off his night-vision and looked Fareeha in the eyes, sputtering his lips. “No, Sergeant, I think they’ve pulled back. I’m not sure they have the numbers to take the city.” While he may have been more relaxed, Naser was still on-guard. His weapon remained pointed down the street with his finger carefully above the trigger-guard. “And I think they know that we aren’t going to back down so easily. Something tells me that they relied too much on that I.F.V.”

Fareeha stared down the road with her night-vision still worn. It dusted up, making it harder and harder to see. The adrenaline began to wear off, and the pain became much more evident in her back. A silent curse was muttered as it hit her. Still, she had to fight through it. “Okay. Good. I need to go check on Masih. Keep this building locked down until I get back, understood?”

“Understood,” Naser replied simply. He brought his night-vision back down to cover his eyes and illuminate the area in front of him.

Fareeha took a deep breath. She readied herself for a sprint. As soon as she felt she was ready, Fareeha burst out the doorway and ran right towards the command-building. She crossed the short road and stepped over bullet-casings, bodies, and pieces of debris that cluttered the area. It wasn’t too long of a distance from her squads to the command-building, but the sprint made her think otherwise.

Upon entering the building, Fareeha found Haik with her bloodied hands sat in a corner. She evidently wiped at her forehead beforehand, because there were streaks of blood that were plastered across her skin. Her first instinct was to go over to Haik and ask her if she was all right – which is what she did right then. Her squad mate’s well-being was important.

Kneeling on the wooden floorboard, Fareeha grabbed at Haik’s forearm. “Haik, are you well?” Fareeha tenderly asked. She could tell something was bothering her – Haik’s eyes never met anything but the ground in front of her.

“No, Sergeant. . .” Her voice was weak, like she had no will to speak. “I could not save Lieutenant Masih. I tried. I tried, ma’am.”

While the news almost certainly hit Fareeha hard, she couldn’t show any of that right now. She had to be Sergeant Amari, not Fareeha – a distinct difference. “I know it hurts, Haik, but you cannot blame yourself for his death. You tried for hardest, and that’s what matters.”

Haik unbuckled her helmet and tore it off, setting it in her lap. Her crimson hands ran through chocolate hair. “What am I supposed to do, Sergeant?” Her bottom lip quivered ever-so-slightly, and the civilian in Haik was beginning to come out.

“You do everything you can. That’s all I, or the Army, or anyone could ever ask of you. Do you understand me? If you can tell me that you did everything you could for him, then I know he – and I – both know that you did your job well.” Fareeha’s hand travelled to Haik’s wrist, where she squeezed it tightly to assure her that her words were not empty. “Now, can you tell me where Lieutenant Gamal is?”

“He’s, uh. . . he’s upstairs with a few other N.C.O’s. Has everything stopped outside, Sergeant? It’s rather quite outside.” Haik’s voice trailed off, like she wasn’t all there anymore.

“Yes, Haik, everything has quieted down for now. We believe they are pulling out of the area. I’d like you to stay here, all right? Get your head back.”

Haik silently nodded affirmatively, clutching her rifle tightly. Fareeha squeezed her wrist once more, then stood up. She couldn’t imagine how Haik felt right now, but she knew she had to get her in order. Right now, she needed to calm down – she was a liability if she wasn’t cool and collected.

She had other things she needed to deal with, like finding out what the Hell her new orders were. Lieutenant Masih’s death meant she was the next in line.

Sergeant Amari marched up the stairs and up to the second floor, where she found a few other people in command positions and a radio operator huddled around a wooden table. “Sergeant Amari, good, you’re still up,” Gamal said. He beckoned her over with a wave of his hand.

“I heard what happened. What are our orders now, Lieutenant?”

“Talon’s pulling out of the city. R.C.T. 3 pushed them out of the south and we’ve got the rest on the run. As for this position: we have a platoon from Lima-Company en-route to reinforce this area. Medevac is on the way to pull our wounded out – then we’re following behind them. And, Sergeant, about Masih-“

The woman cut him off with a nod of her head. “There is no need, sir. We’ll mourn later.”

Gamal’s eyebrows pushed together. He understood how she could keep it together – he just wished that trait was more evident in himself. “Very well. What’s your squad’s status?”

“Soliman, Naser, and Nazari are all combat-operational. Haik is in a state of shock, and I have been hit.” Her tone of voice was almost robotic, very straight-to-the-point like. Everything she said had to have some sort of importance to it.

“You have been shot?” Once of Lima-3’s N.C.O’s asked.

“The round lodged in my plate-carrier. Aside from a bit of bruising and pained breathing, I am fine. As for Haik; she is out of it. She needs to rest and fully recover. I believe Lieutenant Masih was the first person she was not able to save.”

Gamal bobbed his head up and down. He listened in on the radio and spoke authoritatively into it. 

“Roger, Lima-1. We’re ready to receive reinforcement. Interrogative; what’s the status on the medevac? Over.”

Gamal backed away from the table and listened carefully. No one else said anything while he was being relayed information. Fareeha unbuckled her chin-strap and let her helmet sit loosely on top of her head. Her rifle strap went right over her shoulder, where it sat pointed at the ceiling. 

“Lima-3 copies. We’ll see you when you get here, out.” The Lieutenant turned around and faced the command personnel. “They’ll be here within 5. Get your wounded sorted and prepped to move.”

Sergeant Amari and the many others around her headed for the stairs. As they marched down, none of them said a word. The mood of the area was clearly read as sorrowful. Once they reached the bottom, Fareeha approached Haik, but activated her radio before she said anything to her.

“Hotel-1, prep the wounded for transport. Medevac will be arriving within 4 mikes.” Her radio hot-mic’d while she thought of how to word her next statement. It was a difficult thing to say, but: “Lieutenant Masih is gone. Our medics did their best, but he was too wounded. Until further notice, I am taking operational command of this platoon. We’ll mourn him later – right now, we still have a job to do.”

Nothing came through on the line. She didn’t expect anything to. The news of their lieutenant’s death must have hit hard, but they needed to know something as big as that.

“Sergeant?” Haik quietly asked.

“Go ahead.”

“What’s going to happen next?” It was a simple question, but Fareeha found it hard to come up with an answer for it. What happened next wasn’t going to be so simple – there’d be a funeral for Masih, some new lieutenant would be sent in to replace him, and soon enough, the platoon would either come to love or hate this new one.

“What will happen next is we are going to get our people out of here, then we’re going to all get some rest.” It wasn’t a lie – it just wasn’t the whole truth. The platoon needed to deal with this one thing at a time until the situation was done with.

“Sergeant?” Haik asked again. Fareeha knew she had another question for her, and she hoped she’d be able to answer it truthfully.

“Yes, Haik?”

“I don’t know if I want to do this anymore.”

Fareeha’s eyes locked onto Haik. She crouched on the ground and shook her head, saying: “Don’t say something like that. Not until you’ve had time to think about everything, okay? You’re in shock.”

“I. . . I’m serious, ma’am. I can’t do this. I can’t – I can’t hold someone’s life in my hands and be the reason for their death. How am I supposed to tell my family that I could not even save my lieutenant’s life?”

Fareeha tugged her helmet off. Her sweat-drenched hair stuck to her skin, until she ran a hand through to slick it back. With the other hand, she reached out for Haik’s shoulder. “Safiya, you are not the reason Masih died. You are the reason he could live as long as he did. So, I ask you again: wait until you have had time to re-evaluate your choice, and if you still believe that this is not something you can see yourself doing, then we will try and work something out, all right?”

Haik pressed her head into her hands. The blood had dried by now, leaving only crusted pieces of evidence to show for it. Not another word came from her.

In a way, she could sympathize with her. For people to depend on you like they do with her is not only tough, but is almost unfair. It was difficult, but it was something that they knew they had to do. That was their job.

She stayed there with Haik for a few more minutes, until she heard the rumble of vehicles approaching. Knowing that Talon was already being pulled out of the area, she knew it had to have been their friendlies. 

Fareeha stood up and offered down a hand to Haik. She took the hand and stood up, setting her helmet loosely on her head. Fareeha did the same thing. Together, they approached the vehicles outside and watched as a few medics carried bodies out on stretchers. She immediately saw Masih’s lifeless body drenched with blood being escorted to one of the medevac vehicles. Freshly-geared soldiers exited their vehicles and took cover in the buildings around them. Their night-vision was clean, allowing the best visibility the gadget had to offer.

“Hotel-1, mount up. We’re leaving.”

She found her vehicle and stood outside it, not saying much of anything. Soliman got into the driver’s seat and slammed his door shut. Naser took the position up on the mounted gun. Nazari stuck the barrel of his gun out the window, scanning for any hostiles. Haik sat with her helmet in her hands, staring at the floor below her. 

Fareeha watched as everyone loaded into their vehicles. Once they were all in – everyone that could move on their own, that is – she key’d her radio again. “All Hotel-1 Victors, we’re Oscar-Mike.”

The vehicles started up. She entered the passenger side of her squad’s vehicle and shut the door behind her. “Proceed north out of the town and head back to base. Edfu is ours. Talon won’t try it again. We lost a lot of people, but their loss has not gone in vain. Because of our actions, the civilians of this city get to have a home to return to. They can live their lives knowing that we will keep them safe.”

She let the radio go silent for a moment. No one in her vehicle said anything, and she was certain that the same thing went for the rest of Hotel-1.

“Lieutenant Masih would be proud of us. Let us not forget that.”

Fareeha chose not to relax. Not until they were back at the base. Her helmet bounced atop her head, thanks to it not being secured at her chin. She focused on the road in front of her. Her rifle sat between her legs, pointing towards the ceiling.

“Nazari said you got shot, Fareeha. Is that true?” Soliman asked, without taking his eyes off the road. She could tell from his tone that he wasn’t in the greatest of moods. Though, she’d have had to be an idiot to think he would have been.

“Yes. It got caught in my plate carrier. I’m fine.”

“Took it like a damn champ,” Nazari piped up. He was always too gung-ho to feel bad about something. Or maybe it was his own way or mourning, Fareeha didn’t know.

“That boy had a much worse wound than I did. Anything less than ‘taking it like a champ’ would be insulting.”

“Damn right,” Nazari mumbled. He wasn’t interested in saying anything else. 

She turned around and glanced to Haik, noticing she still wasn’t saying anything. Her squad’s morale was low. Shit, her morale was low. Things really went south on this one. She knew things most likely would have, but never expected Lieutenant Masih to die. It would take a while for the platoon to recover from the hit.

They passed by multiple vehicles that were on the way to reinforce Edfu. It felt good to know that soon enough, the people there would see peace once again. She dug into her front chest pouch and retrieved the crushed bullet. Sliding it between her fingers, she thought about how much damage this small piece of metal could have done to her body if the plate carrier hadn’t been on her torso.

The rest of the ride back was silent, aside from the occasional bump in the road that sent everyone up ever-so-slightly. They dismounted and were greeted by an abundance of medical personnel that were bracing for the wounded. As tough as it was, she knew they’d have a lot to deal with when the medevac got there.

Soliman tugged his helmet off and leaned against the RG-32’s hood. He didn’t have to say much; Fareeha read what was on his mind.

“You think we should have went in with more people,” Fareeha exhaustedly said. She watched as Haik trotted away towards the armory, sputtering her lips together. 

“No,” Soliman solemnly replied back,” I think Talon is on the run for a reason. The losses they just took – why wouldn’t we chase them? End this once and for all?”

“I wish it were that simple, I really do,” Fareeha began, now facing Soliman entirely. Her eyes had dark circled underneath them that showed how tired she really was. “Half our platoon is either wounded or dead. Our lieutenant is dead. If we tried to follow them, we’d only be killing ourselves in the process. Ending Talon is going to take more than this one battle. It could take years. We need time to regroup, reinforce, and then we can think about making a move on them.”

Soliman nodded hesitantly. He was starting to understand Nazari’s view even more as the days go by. “All right, Sergeant. If you say so.”

Before Fareeha got to retaliate, a runner came up to her vehicle. “Sergeant Amari!”

She noticed his name and rank, addressing him with a short: “Yes, Corporal?”

“Major Baz has asked you report to his office immediately.”

Fareeha glanced to Soliman, who only offered a quick shrug of his shoulders in response. After hesitating for a moment, she sighed, saying: “Very well. I will meet him now.” The runner turned around with some quiet thanks, going back on his way. Fareeha ejected the magazine from her rifle, tucked it away, then threw the strap over her shoulder and approached the command building. Once inside, the refreshing breath of air-conditioning hit her sweat and dirt-caked face like a brick. It certainly felt amazing in the cool air. 

She pulled her helmet off and tucked it underneath her left arm. Marching down the hallways, Sergeant Amari eventually found herself by the office of Major Baz. She knocked on the door and awaited a response.

A heavy, gravelly voice answered from within. “Come in.” The man was almost certainly a smoker.

She pushed the door open and entered the room, clicking her dusty heels together. Her right hand went right up to her forehead in a crisp, clean salute. “Sergeant Amari reporting, sir,” She exclaimed.

“At ease, Sergeant. Hell, with what happened out there, it feels wrong to make you salute me. Come on, you’re allowed to relax a bit.”

Fareeha lowered her hand. She approached his desk and stared forward, a blank expression on her face.

“I’m sure Lieutenant Gamal gave you the run-down. R.C.T. 3 pushed Talon out of the city, and thanks to Hotel-1 and Lima-3, we held the city. Unfortunately, Lieutenant Masih’s death was not able to be prevented. We are looking for someone else to fill his position.”

Just as she thought would happen, they’d replace him with someone random – someone no one in the platoon knew of. They weren’t going to like it, but they’d have to deal with it.

“Unless. . . you would like the position?” Major Baz offered. 

She certainly hadn’t seen that coming. The idea of commanding more than the squad, but the entire platoon? That was certainly a step in the right direction. She knew the benefits to accepting his offer – the platoon would much rather be led by her than by someone else. That, and she’d have much more authority than she does now. Still, though – she would’ve much rather seen Masih alive and command them then how it is now.

“If you believe that I am the right person for the position, then I will take the rank,” She answered simply. Baz reached into his desk, pulled out two individual silver bars, and slid them across his desk.

“Then congratulations, Lieutenant Amari. I have the utmost confidence in your capabilities.”

She hesitated, realizing that she had something else on her mind other than the new rank she obtained. “Sir, I would like to request permission to hold a service for those we lost today. The Lieutenant’s death certainly hit a lot of our troops hard. Allowing them to mourn on their own time may be what they need the most right now.

“Very well. We will have service once the bodies have been boxed up. After that, they will be sent back home.”

“Is there anything else, sir?”

Baz looked Fareeha up and down. A smirk creased his lips as he mentioned: “It is growing harder and harder to tell the difference between you and your mother, Lieutenant. I am sure she will be delighted to hear the news of your promotion.” He followed up afterwards with a swift: “That is all, Lieutenant. You’re dismissed.”

Fareeha shot up another quick, clean salute, then reached for the bars on the desk. Sliding them into a pocket, she walked out of the office and wiped at her eyes. God, she was tired.

There was something she had to do, though.

Fareeha took the time to walk out of the command building and head to her squad’s vehicle. Or, well – it’s not her squad’s vehicle anymore, it’s one of the vehicles in her platoon. She’d have to sit with someone else in another vehicle. That was going to feel different.

Regardless, she found herself in the passenger seat of Soliman’s RG-32. She reached for her phone in one of her chest pouches and searched through her contacts. Thanks to the dirt on her gloves, traces of the substance wiped away on her screen. She’d deal with that another time. Finding Angela in her contact list, she clicked on the “Video Call” option.

The call began to ring, letting her know it has gone through. She dug into her bag and produced a set of earbuds with a microphone attached to it – that almost certainly wasn’t regulation, but what was Baz going to do? Take away her new rank for something like that? Absolutely not.

She plugged the earbuds into the phone and tucked them in her ear. The video came through distorted at first; Fareeha blamed that on the base’s connection. It wasn’t the best for many reasons.

“Fareeha? Do you realize the time right now? It’s 4 o’clock in the morning, scheiße. What are you doing up?” Angela groggily answered. A light flicked on next to her. In her night-gown, she did her best to cover herself with her blanket.

“I’m sorry, Angela,” Fareeha murmured, her own voice losing its commanding tone. This was the point where she was becoming less of Lieutenant Amari, and more of Fareeha the civilian. “I. . . I just wanted to hear your voice. I’m sorry to wake you.”

Angela ran a hand through her hair, steadying the phone camera. “Fareeha, has something happened? Are you all right? Have you been injured?”

The other line went silent, only showing Fareeha’s face from a downward angle. She had set her phone in her lap, encased by the darkness around her. The lights in the base were the only things illuminating her for Angela to see.

“We lost many people tonight. We lost our lieutenant.”

Angela stayed quiet, only asking a simple: “Were you hurt?”

“I was shot,” Fareeha bluntly put. She held up the bullet smudge for Angela to see. “My plate stopped it. It happened because I tried saving a family. There was this boy – he had this. . . shit, I would classify it as a log, stuck in his stomach. It was almost as big as his mother’s arm. I don’t believe he made it, but the rest of his family did, I know that. We just got-“ Her voice cut itself off, as if it believed it was too hard to continue. “We were mortared right before that. Talon was trying to take the city for themselves, but decided to destroy it in the process. The barely missed our building. Instead, they hit the building across from us and killed 4 soldiers inside it. 4 of my soldiers.”

“Fareeha-“

“They bombed innocent people, Angela. Families – woman, children. People that are not involved in the war. What kind of fucking monsters. . .”

Angela piped up a bit louder this time, wanting to make herself much clearer. “Fareeha, take a breath, okay? From what we know of Talon, there is no negotiating with them. They are only out for blood, and if you and your team hadn’t put a stop to them, then they would have only caused much more damage. You do realize that, yes?”

“I know, Angela. . . I know. The worst part – out of all that, they decided to promote me to lieutenant. We haven’t even buried Masih yes, damn it.”

“That’s how they work. I know it seems cruel, and makes them seem inconsiderate, but they need competent people in those positions. I fail to think of anyone else that could do a better job than you can, Fareeha. Your superiors obviously think very highly of you if they immediately decided on you, though.”

“Of course, they do. My last name immediately grants me respect from everyone,” Fareeha said in an evidently annoyed tone. She rubbed at her eyes and leaned back in the seat. She hadn’t even dressed out of her combat gear yet.

The line went silent. Fareeha momentarily cooled down, realizing the last thing that her soldiers needed to see was her new commanding officer emotional already. She forced herself to think of another topic, so she could get her mind off these awful thoughts. As a matter of fact, something immediately came to mind – something that could either make her night much better, or make it worse all together.

“Angela?”

“Yes, Fareeha?” Angela answered. She pulled the blanket away and stood up, heading for her closet. The phone pointed up towards the ceiling.

“Do you ever think about that moment in the hospital?” Fareeha’s question was short and sweet, but even still, she felt the need to follow up with it. She wasn’t looking to make her uncomfortable. “I hope you’re all right with me asking you. If you don’t want to talk about it, I understand.”

“No, you’re fine, Fareeha. I do think about it. More often than I would care to admit, truthfully. I’ve asked myself what made me go through with it – if it was impulse, or if it was the direct result of some thoughts I have been trying to hide for some time now.”

“For how long, might I ask?”

“Ever since you did that interview. I saw what kind of woman you turned into, and it. . . ignited something, I suppose is the best way to put it.” Angela silently thanked God that the camera wasn’t on her, because her cheeks turned into miniature strawberries after admitting that.

“Oh.” Fareeha did her best to act like that wasn’t much of anything. While it didn’t suddenly fix how she felt overall, it did make her feel better in the now portion of the night. “And have you thought about the idea of, uhm, becoming something? I’m sorry – I don’t know how to ask that question.”

Angela suddenly came back into view, a dark blue jacket covering her torso. Her hair was still mess, and likely wasn’t going to change any time soon. “I have thought about it,” She said in return, zipping her jacket up. She sat on the edge of her bed, staring into the screen. She assumed she was looking at Fareeha, but given how dark it was, she had trouble confirming that hypothesis. “It could be hard to maintain, but if you are still interested, then yes.”

“Yes. . .?” Fareeha unsurely asked. She was looking for an exact answer, in order to ensure that there wasn’t any miscommunication between the two.

“Yes, I will happily be your girlfriend.”

Fareeha could feel her eyes water, and she didn’t know if it was her tiredness, the night’s events, or knowing that Angela just said yes. She decided not to make a scene about it, only offering: “That’s great.” Then she realized how awkward that sounded and silently cursed herself for it. “Or, uh – thank you? I’m sorry, Angela, I’ve never done this before.”

“Ever?” Angela answered, taken aback. With Fareeha’s looks, she found it hard to believe that she had never been on a date with someone before.

“No. I have only ever held interest in one person.”

“Oh, right. I feel honored, then,” Angela said with a hint of amusement tucked in her voice. Knowing that Fareeha hadn’t ever been on a date before was a bit concerning, but also came as no surprise. From a young age, Fareeha had never shown too much of an interest in dating.

“I’m sorry for calling you at this hour again, Angela. You’ve made my night much better, though. I could not surround myself in my thoughts alone.”

“You do not have to apologize for wanting to speak to me, Fareeha. Although, perhaps next time you feel the need, maybe do it a bit earlier?” The joking tone in her voice at the end was all too clear, and Fareeha understood it immediately.

“I’ll be sure to, Angela. Are you getting ready to head out?”

“I suppose I am. No sense in going back to sleep, seeing as I was only going to wake up an hour from now, anyway.”

“Well, if you see my mother today, Angela. . . could you tell her I love her? The events tonight made me realize how little I tell her that anymore.”

With a simple nod of her head, Angela confirmed her request. “I’ll be sure to, honig. Now, do me a favor and please get some rest? You look unbelievably tired. You deserve the rest, too.”

Fareeha popped the heavy metal door open. “I will. If you ever have any free time, my phone is usually on me at all times. I will try to answer to the best of my ability, all right?”

“All right, Fareeha. Now go. I will call you sometime later,” Angela replied in a hurried manner. She knew that Fareeha really did need the rest, and a lack of it could do a good bit of damage to her body – and her mental performance if something came up.

The pair said their goodbyes. Fareeha made her way to the armory and put her weapons away, then settled in the Commanding Officer’s barracks. She took up a position on one of the unnamed beds and flopped down on the hardened mattress underneath her. 

She’d have to do something for Angela. Though, she wouldn’t be getting any free-time lately, not in her new position. She was determined to find some way, though – even if it was just a one-day thing where she took her out to dinner or something, or even staying home with her.

She had a girlfriend, now, and many more responsibilities came with that. She was almost certain that Angela wouldn’t put up with a lousy girlfriend, especially not when there were plenty of other people out there that looked way better than Fareeha.

Here comes the jealousy part that nobody tells beginners about. She’d almost certainly be talking to other people, and – ah, fuck it, Fareeha wasn’t going to worry about that.

Someone like Angela was too pure to pull anything like that. Loyalty undoubtedly wasn’t something Fareeha needed to think about. They were both mature people, and were both going to try their hardest to make this relationship work out.

That’s if Fareeha manages to survive this whole conflict.


	9. Passing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Overwatch takes a loss greater than they could imagine. The team mourns the loss together, but tensions are at an all time high. Their limits are put to the test, and some finally break after so long.
> 
> Hotel-1 has continued to battle Talon in Edfu. They've taken losses; they've lost morale. The Overwatch member's death hits home with them. Officially, they're still combat operational. Unofficially? Hotel-1 is broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been reading the comments, and I appreciate all of your feedback on these latest chapters. I understand your points, and I imagine that this next chapter is going to feel awkward for a few reasons.
> 
> I guess I'd just like to lay it down real quickly - my reasons for this chapter's content, specifically. I feel like Pharah's story after the last chapter up until this new chapter is very simple. She's a lieutenant, meaning most of her time is going to be spent with the army. There isn't much time for her to have any down time with Mercy, or any of the others, especially after the attacks on Overwatch and all around the world. They're busy. Neither one of them can go on a date.
> 
> Another reason is because I believe this is when Pharah's story really kicks off. After this, things drastically change for everyone. I believe that this chapter is the segue into a new branch of Overwatch's story.
> 
> Also, there are many characters in this chapter, but you'll notice some are not in the spotlight as much as others are. Not really much else to it.
> 
> It isn't the most interesting of chapters, in my opinion, but I hope you all enjoy.

Egypt never recovered from the attack on Edfu.

Talon only grew more aggressive. While the Army continued to put up a fight on the outskirts of the city, the destruction left in Talon’s wake was too much for the civilians to handle. The city turned into a ghost town, now only occupied by its defenders. Every day, people questioned if Edfu would ever return to how it used to be. That first night – on the first day of the invasion – people still had hope. They believed that Talon would be defeated, that someway, somehow, they would restore order to the city.

That was 2 years ago. Hope was a thing of the past.

Lieutenant Amari and the rest of Hotel-1 camped out in city of Esna, at the southern border. This was the first time her platoon could sit and relax for the past 3 months. They had been fighting practically non-stop for so long, many of her soldiers found it troublesome to not have their firearms next to them. Civilian life planned to hit them like a brick.

The youngest Amari sat in her command-post, with the recently promoted Captain Gamal at her flank. They studied a holographic panel that frequently updated as more information came in.

“Zulu is being pushed out of the city. Without Lima there to assist them, how long until we lose it? We cannot hope to hold the city much longer,” Gamal spoke effortlessly to no one in particular. Fareeha came to understand after working closely with him that he spoke randomly whenever he was nervous.

“And why can Lima not assist Zulu? If Edfu falls, they’ll push right up to Esna and be closer to Luxor. We cannot allow that to happen.”

“Lima can’t assist because we don’t have the numbers to put up a proper defense. If we went in now, our remaining men would all die. Maybe it’s time we pulled out of the city.”

Rage filled her mind. How dare he suggest that? After everything – no, everyone they’ve lost, he thinks they should just leave the city for Talon to infest? “No,” Fareeha retaliated. “We can’t leave. We have our orders. Use your rank and call for some support.”

Gamal rolled his eyes, placing his hands flat on the table. “You don’t think I’ve already tried that? Support is tight – they can’t bring much.”

“Anything is better than nothing, Gamal. If we abandon Edfu, we’ll be showing Talon that we can be defeated.” She jabbed a finger towards him, directly stating: “And that is unacceptable.”

Before the Captain had a chance to say something else, a runner came bursting through the door. He seemed out of breath, hands on his knees. “Lieutenant Amari, ma’am!” After recovering his breath, he brought a hand up to his forehead for a salute.

“At ease,” She addressed him with. “What’s the issue?”

The young soldier scratched at his neck, gesturing out the door. “I’m sorry, but Major Gaz has requested you at his office. I. . . I think you should head there, ma’am.”

Fareeha immediately noticed the dismay in the private’s voice. She offered a nod, then turned to Captain Gamal. “You’ll have to excuse me, Captain – it seems important.”

Gamal bobbed his head. He continued to study the holographic display in front of him, monitoring incoming reports. She took that as her cue to leave.

Once she walked out of the building, Fareeha saw soldiers with their heads in their hands, some comforting the others. She assumed it was because of their previous battles in Edfu. The company’s morale was dropping more and more as each day went on, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. There wasn’t much dialog being spread across the forward-operating-base. No one had much to say.

Corporal Soliman approached her, but didn’t meet her eyes. The pair stopped in their tracks; Soliman set a hand on her shoulder, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Truly.”

Fareeha tugged her helmet off and clipped it to her side. “What happened, Soliman?” She questioned. Soliman was never the type of person to not look you in the eyes when he spoke to you, unless he was too focused on whatever he may have been doing at the time. For him to put on such a sorrowful tone, something really had to mess him up.

He squeezed her shoulder and sighed, saying lowly, “Just find Major Baz, ma’am. He’ll fill you in. I’m – I’m sorry, Fareeha.” Soliman’s repetition didn’t go unnoticed. He trotted off, back to his platoon’s barracks.

Admittedly, her pace accelerated. If something was wrong, it was her duty to find out. She couldn’t allow her entire platoon to be down in the dumps like this without her knowledge on what was causing it.

Major Baz’s office was already opened. He had a tablet displaying some news involving Overwatch. From her distance, she couldn’t read it – but she recognized the symbols and immediately knew who that organization was.

“Major Baz, sir,” Fareeha called out. 

With a beckoning of his hand, he offered the room to her. “Shut the door, please,” his gravel voice muttered. She followed his orders, closing the door as she entered to ensure some sort of privacy between the pair.

Judging by the mood, Fareeha assumed this was some sort of informal visit. Baz gestured to one of the chairs in front of him, but Fareeha stayed standing. Being on her feet wasn’t going to hurt her. “Has something happened, sir?”

A lowly sigh came from the older man’s nostrils. He shut off the tablet and glanced up to the impeccable officer, nodding. “Something has. Lieutenant Amari-“

He stuttered. Fareeha saw and heard it. Baz never stuttered. 

“Lieutenant Amari, it is with a heavy heart that I must inform you that your mother, Ana Amari, at 1700 hours yesterday, was killed in action after engaging Talon forces. Official reports claim she took fire from hostile snipers, and was unable to retaliate in time. Overwatch has declared her killed-in-action.”

Silence filled the room. No longer was Fareeha staring at Baz. Her eyes fell to her feet, unable to say anything.

“The reports are wrong,” Her mind told her. “Mum can’t die. Not her.” She could feel her whole body shutting down – air wasn’t in her lungs, her heart was rapidly beating, and some foreign liquid formed just underneath her eyes.

An attempt to speak was tried, but ultimately failed. Her mouth opened; nothing came out. She tried to remember the last thing she said to her mother, however many years ago that was. Did her mother die believing she hated her? Did she die thinking her own daughter didn’t love her?

Major Baz stood up. He walked around his desk and gently pat the lieutenant on the shoulder, silent as ever. “I’ll let you have the room to yourself,” He mumbled, before walking out of the office. The door shut behind him.

For the first time in her life, Fareeha felt completely helpless. The thought of her mother dying escaped her mind years ago. She almost refused to believe it, but somewhere in her heart, she knew it was true. For 8 years, Fareeha had seen soldiers die around her. She saw her own lieutenant’s body being carried away. She saw dead civilians in the streets, and those that were wounded but still held on to the hope that someone would save them. This death – this one, small death out of millions, brought her to her knees.

In this moment, Fareeha’s inner civilian came out.

Someone took over her body, because Fareeha didn’t feel in control of it anymore. A clear liquid slid down her dirt-caked face, clearing the way as it fell. There was no anger in her, only the regret of not being able to say her goodbyes. Her back hunched forward, elbows bracing themselves on her knees. Gloved hands covered her cheeks and eyes, burying her face in them.

Lieutenant Amari allowed herself to cry, just this once.

* * *

It had been years since Jack was in Cairo. Only this time, he was in the all the wrong reasons.

Nobody ever saw this day coming. Jack always believed that it’d be him or Reyes to go first, not Ana. Not fucking Ana. He forced himself to remain composed. The reporters were really starting to make him wish he wasn’t, though.

Fucking vultures. They were too busy thinking about their ratings and views than they were Ana’s death. It made him sick to think about.

The reporters were locked away from the burial ground, thankfully. He didn’t know what he’d do if they were allowed to intrude on this moment. Well, no – he knew someone else would be taking up a space here, that’s for sure.

“Is everyone here?” Jack asked aloud. He silently counted the heads of those he could see – Winston, Oxton, Ziegler, Reinhardt, Reyes, McCree, Lindholm, and other Overwatch personnel gathered around a chestnut coffin.

“Let’s just get this over with,” Reyes spouted. Jack could see the anger on his face. He knew there was much more inside of him.

“Show some respect, Reyes, for once in your fuckin’ life,” Jack shot back. He wasn’t in the mood for any of Gabriel’s antics today – or, well, ever. Only now, Jack wasn’t going to be as “polite” as he usually was.

“Y’know, Morrison, some shit keeps poppin’ up in my mind,” Reyes began, jabbing a finger towards the Strike-Commander. “I just keep thinking, we wouldn’t fuckin’ be here if you knew how to lead an op. How the fuck could you screw up that big?”

Jack clenched his fists. His heart began to beat faster than it normally did – he could feel the adrenaline start to flow in his body. “You better watch what you say, Reyes.”

He could feel everyone looking at them. Simultaneously, he felt the disappointment of those around him hit him like a sack of bricks. He wasn’t supposed to be acting like this. He was supposed to be a leader.

“What the fuck’re you gonna’ do, Jack? You gonna’ send me out on a mission and not tell me there are snipers around? That seems to get the job done, doesn’t it?” Reyes stepped close, buffing his chest in a show of force.

“Stop this,” Reinhardt quietly spoke. The humungous German was quiet the entire way to Egypt. Those were the first words he’d said all day.

“I mean how fuckin’ badly do you gotta’ mess up, Jack? You got her killed. You got her killed because you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing.”

Reyes knew his words were getting to Morrison. He was waiting for him to swing, then he’d have a reason to beat the fuck out of Jack. In a moment of rage, without even thinking about it, Gabriel spewed a string of words tainted with pure hate.

“You didn’t even go back for her. You left her there to die!”

Jack couldn’t control himself after that. He was taught to kill – something he was ready to do. In an anger, he swung for Reyes’ jawline. He moved faster than most others around him – aside from Oxton, but she was a clear exception to that.

The punch connected, blowing a swift strike into Reyes’ bone. It knocked his head to the side. Jack took the opportunity to grab him and throw him to the side, onto his back. More importantly, he wanted him away from Ana’s casket.

Reyes stood back up with a laugh. “You’re nothin’ but a coward, Jack. All these years of fuckin’ up finally caught up to you.”

Reason completely left Morrison’s mind. The only thing he wanted to do in this moment was put a stop to Reyes. He pushed towards him and swung again; however, this time he was met with a brutal kick to the knee. Morrison dropped to the ground, only to have a booted foot connect to his rib cage. He laid on his back after twisting from the hit.

Reyes climbed on top of him. There was a hatred in his eyes that hadn’t been seen before. Ana’s death triggered something in him – some evil that no one wanted to see.

“Get off him, Reyes!” Angela cried. She stepped forward, only to be stopped by a gigantic hand.

Reinhardt stepped forward before either one of them could do something more. He grabbed Reyes by the neck and squeezed – just barely allowing his windpipe to live another day. “I said stop this!” Reinhardt bellowed, throwing Reyes to the side like a ragdoll. “You two may settle your differences another day! Today, we are here for Ana, not your petty feud!”

Reinhardt’s face was a dark red, conformed from both anger and an unrelenting sadness that refused to leave his heart. The veins on his neck bulged in rage. He hadn’t even noticed that he was pressing his foot down on Morrison’s chest.

“You’re-“ Reyes coughed, rubbing at his neck. No number of drugs they pumped into him could withstand Reinhardt’s strength. “You’re goddamn right we’re here for Ana, Reinhardt! That’s the whole fuckin’ problem! We wouldn’t be here if he didn’t get her killed!”

“I told her to evac! I fucking told her that we were leaving, Reyes – she stayed behind! What the fuck was I supposed to do?”

Reyes scrambled to his feet, but kept his distance. He knew better than to anger Reinhardt. “You were supposed to be there for her, goddamn it! You were supposed to keep her safe!”

“Enough!” Reinhardt screamed from the bottom of his lungs. The pure might from his voice created an echo that shot throughout the city. 

The crowd stared at the hulking man. No one said a word.

“We are here to mourn her! We are here to give her the respect she deserves, and if you two cannot stop this conflict, I will make sure that both of you are buried this day as well!” Reinhardt’s shoulders rose and fell heavily in a fit of rage. He stared at Reyes with hatred in his eyes.

Angela stepped closer to him and set a hand on his arm. “Reinhardt. . .”

Reinhardt went silent, pulling his foot off Morrison’s chest. The audacity of them to start a fight here, of all places. It baffled him, knowing that they were so bent out on their hatred for each other that they would dare disrespect Ana’s memory.

McCree approached Reyes, setting a hand on his shoulder. He said something inaudible to him; Reyes nodded and stepped forward, going to the other side of the coffin. 

Morrison scrambled to his feet with the help of Angela. Neither one of them said anything – hell, nobody said anything. The divide between the two remaining leaders was enough to shut everyone up. 

Reinhardt picked the empty coffin up by one hand. McCree, Oxton, Morrison, Reyes and Ziegler did the same. They carefully began to sit it inside of the grave, where it would stay forever more. The silence in the air was unreasonably tense. Any word could set them off again.

With the coffin in the ground, the crew stared down at it. Typically, there’d be some form of final words, but no one could prepare for something like this. The shock was still hitting them. The loss of Ana was too much for some of them to bear.

“When I first met Ana,” Jack began, breaking the silence, “she was the strongest person I’d ever met. Stronger than me. Stronger than my fellow soldiers. She could hold her own in the toughest of situations. She never once backed down from a challenge, and when the time came, she faced motherhood while still helping save the world.”

He stopped for a moment, shaking his head. The pain from before already wore off, and it was like there almost wasn’t even a fight.

“No one else could do the thing she did. She put her life on the line for all of us. Some more than others. She considered us all to be her family, regardless of how we may have felt about her. Whether you loved her, hated her, or just didn’t care for her, she’d risk her well-being in order to protect you. I’m confident that if it weren’t for her that day, none of us would have escaped.” Another break in his words showed how emotional Jack became after speaking. Slow, shallow words escaped his lips.

“Not even me.”

There was some commotion at the entrance. Reporters suddenly sparked up, and the flashing of lights shined from their cameras. Jack could feel the anger again.

“No one ever thought this day would come. No one thought we’d ever have to bury her. But we all know that’s not how this works. We know what we signed up for. Ana knew day in and day out that every mission she went on, there was always a chance she wouldn’t be coming back. That never scared her. She did the things she did despite knowing she could die doing it. If there’s anything we should take from her presence on this earth, it’s that an unrelenting willpower is the only way we will ensure victory against our enemies.”

Jack opened his mouth to continue speaking after a short pause, only, it was interrupted by Reyes. “Holy fuck,” was all that he said, which was enough to get the crowd’s attention.

Fareeha Amari approached the crowd, donning her army service uniform. Medals were pinned to the left side of her chest. 2 silver bars were at the front of her collar. Her cover was neatly fit on her head, as well. Her entire uniform was pristine to the T.

While she approached, Fareeha didn’t say a word. Her focus stayed on the gravesite. Everyone stared at her, some with shock, others with pride. If only Ana could see how her daughter looked. . .

As if nothing was out of the ordinary, she positioned herself at the foot of the grave. She stared down at the coffin with blank, emotionless eyes that seemingly stared past anything else. Like Ana, the Eye of Horus was tattooed under her eye – only, it was the opposite eye that Ana’s was under.

Angela approached her, completely silent. Without a word, she slipped a hand out to Fareeha’s and intertwined their fingers. Either Fareeha didn’t care, or she just wasn’t looking to put up a fight, because the grip Angela gave wasn’t returned.

“It’s good to see you, Fareeha,” Jack welcomed her with. “How are you holding up?”

Sharp, narrow eyes found their way onto Morrison. She gave him a look that the Fareeha he remembered wasn’t capable of – a look of hate. He hoped it wasn’t directed towards him.

“This was Talon’s doing?” Her voice was filled with an emptiness that Jack knew all too well. She was angry.

“Fareeha, are you-“ Angela whispered, cut off by Jack’s response.

“Yes. Talon was responsible for your mother’s death, I’m afraid. She was not able to evacuate in time, and one of their snipers shot her. I’m sorry.”

Fareeha went quiet again, staring back down at the casket. Angela squeezed her hand, leaning up to her. “Fareeha, are you all right?”

Her question went unanswered. Angela knew that it was pointless to ask something like that. She knew it better than anyone – having to deal with burying your murdered family.

Jack sighed. He looked to Reyes, who matched his glance. With a tilt of his head, he started to walk off. Reyes followed him, and soon enough, the others began to walk off, as well. One by one, the people began to walk away from the gravesite, leaving Fareeha, Angela, and Reinhardt to themselves.

“I’m. . . sorry, Fareeha. No one could have expected this,” Reinhardt solemnly spoke. He set his hands on her shoulders and stood behind her. In that moment, Reinhardt felt her body’s posture drop. The strength left her.

“Reinhardt, I – I never said goodbye,” Fareeha stuttered. She forced herself to fight back the same liquid that came out before. It would only dishonor her mother to cry at her funeral.

“I know, little one. I know,” Reinhardt murmured. He removed his hands from her shoulders and grabbed one of the shovels laid out next to a dirt pile. He offered one to Fareeha, who hesitated to take it. Reinhardt also gave one to Angela, who took it quicker than Fareeha did.

Fareeha was the first one to dig her shovel into the dirt. She rose it up and dumped it into the hole. Reinhardt and Angela followed her lead. The larger German man did it much easier than the others. Admittedly, he probably could’ve filled the hole faster with his bare hands than with this puny shovel.

Except, it wasn’t just about filling the hole. Burying a loved one was more symbolic than it was a task. As each shovel of dirt went into the hole, the last female Amari found it more and more difficult to keep going.

Christ, that was a tough pill to swallow. Her father wasn’t an Amari. Not really. To be an Amari was more than just having the name; it was about proving yourself, helping others, not sitting behind some desk. And where the fuck was he, anyway? Why wasn’t he here? Could he not take the time to show up at his wife’s funeral? Stupid prick.

Fareeha’s hands grew tighter around the wooden stock. The more time she spent giving way to her thoughts, the angrier she became. Angela saw how roughly she stuck her spade into the dirt. When the grave filled to the top, Fareeha stabbed the tip into the ground and fell to her knees, atop her mother’s grave.

Angela knelt beside her. She wrapped an arm around her partner and squeezed, pressing her forehead into Fareeha’s neck. “I’m so sorry, Fareeha.”

Angela’s words mindlessly bounced around Fareeha’s brain. She heard what she said, but couldn’t acknowledge it. Anger filled her heart. Fists clenched, Fareeha shut her eyes, recapturing the ghostly memory of the last interaction with her mother. She vaguely remembered it being something about her enlistment. She can still remember the disappointment in Ana’s voice, knowing her daughter was going to be sent off to war.

Wordlessly, Fareeha pushed herself up. She offered a hand to Angela, who most graciously accepted. Her grip from Angela’s hand didn’t drop; she needed to hold her now more than ever. A final stare gave way to her departure. Mourning for too long would turn into grief – grief turned into depression, and she couldn’t afford to be depressed. Talon was still making a push. If she allowed her pain to tear into her mind, who knew what kind of damage it could do.

So, the trio walked away. They walked away from the reality that was behind them. That was all they could do, now. Walk away.

Some of the others left, but a few remained. The ones that Fareeha knew personally stayed. Jack, Gabriel, Lena, Winston, Jesse and Torbjörn. A small crew.

“You are all welcome to stay in our home,” Fareeha mumbled. She gestured towards the vehicles they rented for the remainder of their stay. Fareeha got a ride from a taxi, but it was nowhere to be seen.

“How did you plan on leaving?” Angela asked. Fareha shook her head, turned to her side to face the blonde woman, and only offered a simple: “I didn’t.” 

Jack pointed towards the line of cars. “Everyone in. Fareeha, you mind getting in the lead vehicle? I don’t remember the way.” He innocently shrugged his shoulders, following up with, “It’s, uh – it’s been a while since we’ve been there.”

A nod of her head, a step towards the car, and Fareeha realized that even she hadn’t been to her home in a long while. She didn’t feel guilty, only interested to see how different it may have looked. Stepping into the vehicle’s passenger seat, flashbacks hit her like a brick. Memories of how many times Soliman and her cruised down dirt pathways dressed in their combat gear, Naser stood behind them on the gun. Except now, the seats were much more comfortable, and the weight of her gear was non-existent.

Angela sat behind her. Gabriel sat behind Jack, and Jack was to her left. At first, Fareeha was the only one to talk. She gave directions to Jack. The other vehicles behind them stayed close. 

“How long’s it been, kiddo?” Gabriel spoke up. He scratched at his neck and leaned forward, staring at her shoulder until she turned to face him.

“11 years,” Fareeha put in a blunt tone. She grew to accept that time went on, and no one stopped to visit her. They were busy.

So was she.

“You’re not serious. It’s been that long? Shit, how old’re you now?” Gabriel briefly rubbed at his chin, feeling the few grey hairs that plagued him now. Christ, he really was getting old.

“The last time you saw me was when I was 15, Gabriel.” Fareeha cleared her throat and looked forward. Her voice quivered, making her realize she hadn’t put all her emotions behind her just yet. Jack reached his free hand over and set it on her shoulder, one hand steering the wheel.

“So, what – you’re 26? Already? Fuck me, man, that can’t be right. How’s that much time gone by already?”

Fareeha didn’t answer. She stared out her window, silent. Gabriel realized his efforts to make her think of something other than her mother’s death weren’t going so well. It was going to take more than some cheap move to get her talking.

“What about that tattoo? When’d you get it?”

“I had it done 2 days ago. I did it in her honor. She always said it would keep us protected,” Fareeha said sternly. Angela realized that she was following in her mother’s footsteps even more, now. Donning the Eye of Horus, serving in the Army, becoming some legend – she might as well have been the younger version of Ana, at this point.

“I think she would’ve liked it,” Jack piped up. He turned down a road that seemed all-too-familiar for Fareeha. A sudden sense of Déjà vu flooded her mind.

Angela tucked her hand through the right side of the seat. She had to push herself forward, but she managed to grab onto Fareeha’s right hand. “She would have loved it,” her words slipped out, in a low whisper to Fareeha.

“Y’know, Fareeha, I remember when you were just a lil’ girl, scrambling over the idea of serving with us. It’s not my call, but I’d be damn proud if you joined up with our crew,” Gabriel proudly pronounced. He saw Jack give him the stink-eye through the rearview mirror.

Fareeha, oddly enough, shook her head. “I have people back there that are counting me. To leave them behind would be betraying their trust.” She pointed to the rank on her collar, stating: “I’m sure you understand.”

“Oh, shit. When’d you get that?” Gabriel inquired, as he leaned forward and eyed the medals on her chest.

“Some time ago. When the attacks on Edfu first began.”

“You were there for the Edfu invasion? That’s some tough shit, Fareeha. I’m sorry.”

Fareeha turned to the side, eyeing Gabriel once again. Her eyebrows pushed together. “You speak as if the invasion is over. It is still very much happening, and we are losing. The only reason I could come to my own mother’s funeral is because too many members of my platoon have been injured or killed. We have been there since the beginning.”

Gabriel bobbed his head up and down, understanding the feeling. “Hey, I get it. Shit’s tough out there. I’m sure they’re glad you’re the one leading them.”

Jack pulled into a driveway, finding one car already parked outside of it. The area was quiet around them. Even though the vehicles may have been shut off, the auto-hover feature kept them in the air.

“Fareeha, you know of anyone staying here?” Jack asked, pointing to the lone car. The others began to get out of their vehicles once they came to a halt. 

“It’s all right, Jack.” Fareeha began to make her way inside, a few others following behind her. Jack and Gabriel stayed behind. When they were far enough away, Jack pushed Gabriel against the driver side door.

“What the fuck’s wrong with you?” Jack angrily questioned. His gravel voice went low, as to not draw any unwanted attention. “You think you can just offer her a goddamn spot in Overwatch like it’s nothing? Do you even think, Reyes?”

Gabriel fired back with his own shove. “Get the fuck off me, Jack.” He moved away from the door and began to walk towards the house, fists tightly balled. “All she ever fuckin’ wanted was to be a part of Overwatch. Sorry for wanting to cheer her up.”

Jack moved with him, steadily behind him. “Ana didn’t want her in this. Can’t you at least honor her last wish? If she were here, I know damn well you wouldn’t have asked her if she was interested in joining.”

Gabriel spun around, showing the anger in his face. “You know what, Jack, you’re exactly fuckin’ right. I wouldn’t have asked her.” He stepped closer, jabbing a finger into the other man’s chest. “But she’s not here, is she? She’s dead. She’s dead, and we need to start thinking about what we’re going to do now. If we don’t start getting new recruits, how long until we’re run into the fuckin’ ground? Huh? Or do you just wanna’ wait until we’re all dead before you start offering other positions to people?”

“Don’t you try and take the morale high-ground. I know exactly what you’re playing at.” Jack pushed Gabriel’s hand away and lifted the volume in his voice. “You think now that Ana’s dead, it’s about fuckin’ time we recruit Fareeha. You think that since Ana’s not here to stop us, we should jump on the opportunity. Unlike you, Reyes, I respect her last wish. She didn’t want her in. She’s not getting in. That’s the goddamn end of it.”

Jack was done. He ended the conversation and started to walk inside. Gabriel stared at Jack’s back as he walked away, wishing he could replace him with Ana. She at least understood him better than he did.

There was no point in staying outside. After a moment’s hesitation, Gabriel followed him and made his way inside. He spotted Reinhardt chatting up some older Egyptian woman on the couch, with Winston and Oxton in the kitchen. McCree and Torbjörn sat quietly around the dinner table, not in the mood to chat.

Reyes knew how McCree felt about Ana. She’d practically been his mother in his eyes. While she spent most of her time with others, the times she spent with McCree were usually utilized by training him on his marksman ship. He was a good shot on his own, but Ana trained him up to be the best.

Poor kid’s heart was broken.

He didn’t see Fareeha or Angela anywhere. He wasn’t about to ask Jack where they might have been, so he took the liberty of looking for himself.

Ana’s home was nice. It reminded him of a very traditional household that had strict rules; no television after a certain time, always doing your homework before you went outside to play, things like that. Certainly not like the house he grew up in.

Gabriel came across a room with the door open. He could hear a faint dialog going on. Not being one for respecting privacy, he butted in to the room and spotted Fareeha and Doctor Ziegler sat on the side of a bed, feet on the floor. “This your room?”

“Mmhm,” Fareeha mumbled. She stared down at her feet. Angela’s arm was wrapped around her shoulders, with her hand rubbing at her shoulder blade in a reassuring manner. “I haven’t been in this room for quite some time.”

What caught Gabriel’s eye was a small, dusty silver necklace on her night-stand. He cocked an eyebrow, sliding it between his fingers. “You kept this all these years?” It was starting to show its age. Whoever was keeping the house in shape apparently didn’t like to mess with the jewelry piece.

“I couldn’t take it with me. The Army’s regulations state that the only jewelry allowed to be worn are wedding rings and religious necklaces. That doesn’t count as a religious necklace.” Fareeha carefully eyed the necklace, remembering how long ago she received it. “I loved it. I was devastated knowing I couldn’t bring it with me.”

“Well, I say: fuck that.” He crouched down and held his hands out. Delicately, Gabriel wrapped the piece around Fareeha’s neck and tied it together. Knowing it was secure, he let it drop down. It certainly didn’t match with her uniform, but he couldn’t care less. “The Army doesn’t know who they’re messin’ with. Let ‘em try and stop you from wearing it.”

She didn’t say anything. It was Angela that offered her thanks. Gabriel took the hint. He nodded a few times and pushed himself up. “Well, don’t let me bother you. We’re out here if y’need us, all right?” Knowing she wasn’t in the mood for talking, Gabriel took his leave. 

Angela ran a hand over the necklace, cocking an eyebrow. “Gabriel gave that to you, yes? I remember seeing you wear it all those years ago.” She slipped the chain between her fingers, twiddling with the silver beads.

“I don’t remember how old I was. I was young, that I know. I believe it was around the time you gifted me that falcon. Do you remember that?” Fareeha’s eyes locked onto the ground, hands clasped together between her knees.

“I remember that. I always thought you would throw it away when you were older. You never seemed like someone that liked girly things.”

Fareeha huffed. She shook her head, remembering the stuffed falcon from so long ago. “I took it with me to basic training. That was my biggest regret. I loved it, but my drill instructors ridiculed me beyond belief. They said things like: “How can you be from a badass like Horus and still play with stuffed animals? What kind of coward are you?” Things like that.” She paused, sighing through her nostrils. “I forgot to bring it with me. I still have it in my footlocker.”

Angela rolled her eyes, removing her hand from the necklace. She brushed her fingers into Fareeha’s silky brown locks. The gesture was repeated over and over, a warm smile forming on her lips. “Well, I think it’s cute you brought it with you. Your drill instructors were only jealous they didn’t get one. Maybe if they weren’t so rude I would send them one.”

“Their job was to be rude, to get into our head and break us.” Fareeha allowed the tiniest bit of happiness to show. “I’m sure the reason they targeted it was because they were jealous, though. I don’t know who wouldn’t be, knowing it came from the one and only Angela Ziegler.”

They went quiet, taking in the rare moment they had to spend with each other. There was no doubt that either one of them wished it was on better terms. Angela laid her head against Fareeha’s collar. The arm that was around her shoulders drifted down to her stomach, connecting with her other hand. Together, they both wrapped around Fareeha’s stomach and held her tight. Feeling Angela hold her, Fareeha ducked her head down and pressed her cheek against the top of her girlfriend’s head.

“When I was given this necklace,” She began, not moving a muscle, “I thought the world of it. I wore it everywhere I went. I wore it in the shower, I wore it to bed, and I wore it whenever I went to school. Having to leave it behind devastated me.” She felt Angela’s lungs expand, taking in a great deal of air. Warm hands idly rubbed at Fareeha’s stomach. “It was so bad that eventually I forgot I was even wearing it. I remember the day I enlisted, I struggled. I struggled because I knew I would have to leave it behind. My caretaker at the time, the woman out there, she called it my ‘coming of age’. She said being an adult was understanding that I’d have to make tough decisions sometimes, and I couldn’t let it drag me down.”

She paused, opening her eyes. Her attention focused onto the blonde hair in her face. “I began to understand that when I joined up. I’ve done things I’m not proud of. I’ve kicked people out of their own homes so my team and I could have some cover. All for the greater good, that’s what they said.” Her mind flooded back with the memories from years ago. Simple things – things the pained her to remember – they all hit hard. “People never ask about what happens after. After we kick them out of their house and fill their floorboards with shell casings. We turned Edfu into a warzone, Angela. There won’t be any recovery. No one will be able to go live there. Not for a long time. All for what? So we can hold Talon’s advance just a little bit longer? I send my men out there, and I know not everyone will be returning. I’ve accepted that. I’ve accepted that one day, maybe it will be me that returns home in a coffin.”

Another pause. Her eyes swelled up, hands clenched together. “What I won’t accept, Angela, is knowing that there are people out there whose lives are being ruined by us. We were meant to protect the innocent from the evils of this world, yet-“

She stopped herself. Now was not the time to get emotional. She wanted to feel Angela’s hands. She just wanted to know that she wasn’t alone right now. When they first proposed the idea of dating, Fareeha hadn’t thought of the sudden loneliness that weighed on her shoulders. Each day that passed where she was stuck in dirt, sand or whatever, she wished she could’ve at least had Angela to return to.

They spent so much time apart, sometimes it didn’t feel like they were together.

Fareeha brought a hand up, grasping at one of Angela’s wrists. “Come on. We should go out there. The others are probably waiting for us.”

While she was a bit resistant, Angela ultimately knew she was probably right. She sputtered her lips and pulled her arms away, brushing the hair out of her eyes. Without much of a response, Angela arose from the bed and held out a hand to Fareeha. Taking it, Fareeha got to her feet – only for her to be pulled into a warm embrace. She felt Angela’s head rest on her shoulder, with these soft, pale arms wrapped around her. “Fareeha, you don’t have to hide your pain. I know you’re angry. Please, don’t bottle it up.”

“Angela, don’t,” Fareeha murmured. She closed her eyes, returning the hug. Her heart began to rapidly beat, thumping against her chest. 

“I’m serious. If you keep it to yourself, you’ll turn cold. Look at Jack for instance. I haven’t seen him cry once, and I’ve seen him on the brink of death. He’s cold and emotionless. I would hate to see you end up like him.” Angela rubbed her hands up and down her back. She pulled her head away, shutting her eyes as well. Her lips parted, pressing against Fareeha’s. She lifted a hand up and cupped it around Fareeha’s neck, holding her closely. 

The kiss obviously caught Fareeha off-guard. It took her a moment to register what was happening, but when she realized, she pressed into the kiss. Desperation filled her heart, and the only thing she wanted to be doing in that single moment was this. She wasn’t ashamed to admit that a bit of tongue action was going on. Each second that passed, Fareeha begged for more. For it never to end. For this one moment to be the one she’d remember forever.

Except, a knock came to the door. “Uh – ‘scuse me,” a country accent spoke up.

Their kiss broke free. Angela’s cheeks flushed a bright red. She turned away from the man in the doorway and pulled away from Fareeha. As she turned to face the voice, she cleared her throat in embarrassment.

Jesse McCree stood in the doorway, hat in his hands. “Don’t mean to interrupt, but a lady out there’s askin’ for you, Fareeha. Reinhardt’s been chattin’ up a storm with ‘er.”

“Right. Thanks, Jesse.” She rubbed a hand at the outside of her thigh, meeting his eyes. “I’ll be out there in just a second, yeah?”

The cowboy nodded with a smirk. His robotic fingers curled around the front of his coat. “Ain’t no bother to me. Good to see how you’re doin’, Fareeha.” Jesse always put a bit more emphasis on the e’s in her name. Funnily enough, he was always the only one to do that. She always liked it.

“It’s good to see you too,” Fareeha responded. After he turned away, she approached Angela, setting a hand on her waist. “Are you all right?” She noticed how timid Angela became when Jesse approached. Angela turned around, placing one of her hands on Fareeha’s chest.

“I haven’t. . . told anyone about us.” Her voice was a ghostly whisper, almost like she was embarrassed to admit it. Peach-toned lips upturned into a nervous smile. “I, well – nobody ever asked. They knew we spoke, but that was it. Does that bother you?”

“No. I can understand your hesitation. I haven’t told any of my soldiers of our relationship, not that it is any of their business regardless. I have no doubt that they’ve caught on to it by now, though. With the amount of time I have spent talking with you, and you alone, I wouldn’t doubt that my soldiers are aware of us.”

Angela’s hand pressed forward, lightly pressing Fareeha away from her. “Come on. We shouldn’t keep them waiting.” 

Fareeha waited until Angela began to walk out of the room before she followed her. Hopefully this wasn’t the end of their moments together. With her mother gone, Fareeha needed her more than ever.

When they arrived outside, an older, greying woman came up to Fareeha. The elderly woman rose a wrinkly hand up to Fareeha’s smooth, tender cheek. Her lips formed into a smile, flashing her pearlescent white teeth. “How the cycle continues,” a hoarse voice spoke.

“It’s good to see you too, Hasina.” Fareeha allowed her to examine her face. It had certainly been a while since the two had last seen each other. Fareeha had no idea how much she really started to look like Ana. For her, she was her own person. For Hasina, however, the tattoo was only the tip of the iceberg.

“If your mother could see you now, what do you think she would say?” Hasina rubbed the freshly tattooed Horus underneath Fareeha’s eye, shaking her head in disappointment. “Look at yourself. I remember the day she had that same tattoo done just under her other eye. How she had that same warmongering look in her eyes.”

Fareeha’s eyes narrowed. She wasn’t wanting a lecture. “My mother isn’t here. Don’t use her as some guilt trip.” She felt a hand go on her shoulder. Angela shot her a look that said, “it’s not worth the fight”. So, she backed off, silently agreeing. “How has life treated you, Hasina? I understood that Mum allowed you to stay here.”

The older woman brought her hand away. She turned around and hobbled off towards the couch, closer to Reinhardt. “I have been well. I see you on the news next to dead men and it makes me worry, Fareeha. You shouldn’t so much as how I am; rather, ask yourself that.”

Next to Reinhardt, Fareeha noticed just how small Hasina appeared. Her memories always told her mind that she was bigger, not as big as her own self, however. Perhaps the age was truly starting to get to her. Or maybe Fareeha put on more muscle than she believed she had throughout her time in the Army.

She was quite tall. In a moment of sudden realization, she was almost as tall as both Jack and Gabriel. Angela was a few inches smaller than her, too. Aside from Reinhardt, everyone seemed to be around her size. Except Winston. Winston isn’t even human, he doesn’t count.

“Those dead men all deserved it. For every dead man you saw under my boot, an innocent man, woman or child filled their place. Those bodies – those bastards we killed, Hasina, they all deserved it. They killed people that never wanted to be in a war. People that didn’t ask to be dragged out of their homes.” She gained the attention of the room, unwillingly. Her voice broke, showing the emotion she tried to keep hidden. “Those men are the bastards that killed my mother, Hasina.”

“Fareeha, you don’t need to explain it. We all understand it. Just sit down and take a breath,” Jack began, as he pointed to an empty spot on the couch. The only thing that came of it was a quick shake of her head. “No. Angela will sit there.”

Angela certainly didn’t know that. She had every intention to stand next to Fareeha. The pressure was on – she knew she had to sit there now. Such a small thing caused so much pressure.

So, that’s what she did. Angela sat next to Hasina and folded her hands in her lap. She saw Gabriel shoot up an eyebrow, the hint of a smirk beginning to form. “So. . . when were you two gonna’ say something?” A quick back and forth motion with his finger let Fareeha knew what he was talking about.

“When the time was right. We have been so busy that the thought of making it public was not constantly on our minds.” Fareeha saw Lena’s grin. She watched her bolt forward, announcing, “I saw it comin’ for so long! Years, even! I saw th’ way you were lookin’ at Angela, Fareeha. I saw th’ way your cheeks went red every time she even looked at you! Winston n’ I even made bets on how long it’d take for one of you to make a move!”

This time, Angela’s cheeks blushed. “Lieber Gott, nimm mich jetzt,” she mumbled underneath a desperate breath. The topic change was enough to brighten the mood for everyone – other than the two it focused on.

“It’s true,” the scientist piped up. “Lena always believed it would be Fareeha to make the first move. I believe she said that Angela refused to take the initiative.”

“Well, not quite. I was recovering from a stab wound. She came to visit me, and made a move then. It was her that made the first move. I had no intentions on entering a relationship at the time. Things were too hectic for me to have time for a girlfriend,” Fareeha corrected. She moved behind the couch and set her hands on Angela’s shoulders. 

“So, what made you go through with it?” Gabriel questioned. She saw how he genuinely seemed interested in learning how their relationship originated. He was always someone that cared about her life, even if it was something small.

It’s a shame they never kept in contact after she left. He was just too busy.

“She came into my life at a time where I believed I could handle myself on my own. I was angry, Gabriel. Anger tends to put one in a bad place when they are on their own. I realized that when I was with her, even if it was just being in the same room as her, I felt infinitely better than I did by myself. It came down to a question of: do I let myself stay alone, or do I finally experience what happiness as an adult feels like?”

Maybe she went too far. The room went quiet. All eyes were on her. She could feel the guilt, sympathy and sadness from the crowd press down onto her shoulders. Not even Reinhardt said anything right then.

Hasina grimaced. Something inaudible came from her lips, no one could understand her. She rubbed at her eyes, before setting her hands on her lap. Fareeha decided that it was probably best she not say anything more. Come to think of it, not even Angela knew the entirety of Fareeha’s thoughts.

“C’mon,” Gabriel started to say. Everyone gathered around, remaining quiet. “Enough of that shit. Anyone got anything they wanna’ say about Ana? Any stories, memories, anything they’d like to say?”

Nobody said anything. Fareeha found it insulting. After everything her mother did, no one wanted to speak. The reasonable portion of her brain said that it was only because they were still in shock. It was still upsetting, anyway.

“No one? Fine, I’ll start.” Gabriel took a pause, scratching at his greying beard. The scraggly hairs on his chin rubbed against his fingers.

“When Jack n’ I first met Ana, she had this look on her face. This look that said not to fuck with her, because if she tried, she was liable to put your ass in place. Regardless of our enhancements, she was still able to fuck us up. That’s when we realized she wasn’t an ordinary soldier. Even with what the news said, she still surprised us every day. When Overwatch came into play, we both agreed that we needed her with us. Right, Jack?”

Jack set his hands on his knees. He leaned forward, addressing the crowd. “Yeah, that’s right. She was just starting to learn English at the time. It was hard to communicate with her for a while. Wasn’t too long ‘till she popped you out, Fareeha. You might not know this, but your momma’ sent you off to live with your dad. He took care of you for a while. Things were too chaotic around here for a baby to be with her all the time.”

That got a laugh out of Gabriel. Pressing his back into the cushion of his seat, he slapped a hand on his knee. No one else laughed; Jack shot a confused eyebrow upward. “It didn’t take long for her to take you back, though. Damn, it must’ve been, what – a few months? Maybe close to a year? She’d get so worried about you. If she couldn’t keep her eyes on you for more than a few days, Ana would start to get stressed outta’ her mind.”

“I never knew my father took care of me,” Fareeha piped up. She only saw her father one time, when she was quite young. It wasn’t for long, though. Only a few days, something like that.

“He sure did,” Jack responded, continuing his time to talk. “I know you don’t know much about your father, but he’s a good man. Canada wouldn’t fit you, though. The people there are too damn nice. Feels almost fake, y’know?”

“Y’know, sir, those Canandians are pretty good people. Ain’t as good as Americans, but good enough people themselves.” McCree’s accent pierced through. Jack was a farm boy, sure, but his accent wasn’t nearly as thick as McCree’s. The cowboy even dressed the part, too, with his leather hat and boots. Even used a six-shooter in this day and age.

“Why’s it that you Americans think you’re all th’ best? I swear, it’s only an American thing, too. What makes America any better than th’ rest of us, huh?” Lena wasn’t mad, only genuinely confused. Everyone inside the European Union seemed to think that Americans always had some sort of superiority complex over other nations.

“Land of the free, home of the brave,” McCree whole-heartedly put. He was always a patriot. “Country earned its freedom when it dumped ya’lls tea in that harbor. Stuff’s gross, anyway. Don’t know why ya’ll don’t drink coffee. We ain’t necessarily better, just proud of the land we live in.”

Gabriel waved a hand. He shook his head, leaning forward to gather everyone’s attention once more. “C’mon, guys. We ain’t here to talk about that shit. Now, anyone else got something they wanna’ say about her?” He turned his attention to Fareeha, an apologetic expression taking form. “We can’t spend too long mourning, you know? It’s not personal, kiddo.”

Fareeha held up an open hand, nodding once. “I understand, Gabriel. I don’t expect all of you to take more time than you need. Not with everything that is happening.”

Angela opened her mouth to speak. The thoughts carefully collected themselves before she let them exit as audible words. “When I first met Ana,” Angela started to say, allowing everyone to focus on her, “I was still in Uni. I came to visit your – or, rather, our headquarters in Switzerland. I lived close enough to it, that I hardly took time out of my day to go see it. She asked me if I had any plans with my medical degree. Back then, I only planned to serve in a hospital.”

Fareeha saw Angela’s shoulders rise. She knew something was bothering her, because whenever Angela was sad, she increased the volume of her breathing.

She prided herself on knowing that extra tidbit.

“The death of my parents fueled my desire to protect those help bring an end to the evil in this world. The next time I saw Ana, I told her what my plan was – I intending on joining Overwatch and assisting the soldiers that were wounded on the battlefield. She was proud. She was proud of me. Through the years that I knew her, Ana always checked up on me. She always made sure that I was happy, and in doing so, she became almost like a pseudo-mother to me. If it had not been for her, I may not have joined Overwatch – or stayed as long as I have. I may have never met Fareeha, or any of you, for that matter. To be sitting here today – to have saved as many lives as I have is partly in thanks to her. Without her, I would not be close to the woman I am today.”

Jack solemnly nodded. He leaned forward, patting Angela’s knee. “Well said, Doc’. None of us would be close to how we are now if she hadn’t come along. Hell, Gabe n’ I probably would’ve torn each other’s throats out by now if it weren’t for her.” Jack heard Gabriel mumbled something incoherent underneath his breath. He wasn’t interested in hearing whatever it may have been.

Fareeha noticed how quiet Reinhardt had been during the entire conversation. She knew he was utterly devastated. He came to a stand and marched out, while the crowd continue to converse. A few glancing eyes darted his way, only to realize he was leaving for a reason. They didn’t want to upset him.

She followed him, though, and the duo went outside. Reinhardt took up most of the porch, so Fareeha opted to sit in the grass next to him. Things were silent for a while. Sitting in silence was almost rehabilitating for her. The sun setting over the horizon only added to the feeling, as its orange and red colors streaked the skyline. That, and there weren’t bullets flying over her head.

“Lieutenant Amari, is it now?” Reinhardt’s voice was low, yet carrying in its weight. Without his armor on, Fareeha could see just how scared his body was in his late age. They weren’t the small, daily cuts one gets from regular work. Each laceration was deep, and went down into the muscle of his body. She only imagined what kind of scars she’d get later down the line.

Offering a smile, Fareeha nodded gently with her hands intertwined together. “That’s correct. I oversee a platoon, now. Unfortunately, I don’t have any of the armor that you are able to wear, but we make do with what we have.”

An airy laugh slipped out of Reinhardt’s mouth. “I’m afraid that my armor will not fit you. Perhaps if you immigrated to Germany, you could convince them to revive the Crusaders, then become one for yourself. You and I could fight together and rid this world of all its evil.” While Fareeha wished she could achieve something like that, the reality behind it was nonexistent.”

She felt his callused hand overtake her shoulder. A gentle squeeze sent a wave of assurance through her body. “I am sorry for this, little one. I am. But you are an honorable warrior, and must not allow her death to pull you away from that.” Fareeha knew that he wasn’t done speaking. He carried himself in a way that showed his pride, while admitting his sorrow. “When my Master died, I carried the weight of his death on my shoulders. I questioned if I had not acted so foolish, would he still live? That one question tore my mind apart.”

Another pause. Reinhardt’s chest rose, preparing to handle his emotion. Fareeha recognized some of the indications that something was bothering him. She knew him far too well for him to hide it back.

“Your mother was the reason I stopped asking myself that. She helped me realize that everything happens for a reason, so to wallow in my pity was only damaging my future, not changing my past. Ana helped me past a dark age in my life. My only wish for you is that you do not do the same with her death, as I allowed myself to.”

Fareeha exhaled a depressed breath. Shaking her head, all she could offer was a simple, “I know.” Soon enough, she’d return to the warfront, leading her soldiers like nothing changed. She’d move past her mother’s death. “I never imagined that my mother would die. In truth, I believed I would be the first to die. She was close to retirement. Maybe her and my father would reignite their relationship.” A moment’s hesitation found its way in her speech. She stumbled on her words, finding it hard to continue. “I suppose now we’ll never know.”

“That may be so, but there are other things you may focus on. Your love for your soldiers, the need to protect them in battle – that will keep you occupied.” Reinhardt pulled her in, resting her head against his chest. A few pats against her shoulder sent a therapeutic assurance between the two. These few moments were the ones that Fareeha enjoyed the most. She loved Reinhardt because he was one of the most selfless people to walk the earth. Even in his darkest hours, he only thought of others.

Reinhardt was the father Fareeha deserved.

“And what will you do? I know that you are close to retirement of your own. What will you do after your service?” Fareeha knew that he had no wife of his own. Reinhardt dedicated his life to the cause. He probably didn’t even have a plan after things were finished.

His hesitation only furthered her belief. “My service to Overwatch will ultimately come to an end, but my fight will not. After I have ended my service, I will continue to fight the evil that plagues my country. Aside from that, there is nothing more I can do.”

“Why not end your service with your official retirement?” Fareeha shut her eyes, keeping her head rested against Reinhardt’s steel-like chest. Moments like this reminded her of when she was younger, when Reinhardt visited her on his off-time. He spent more time with the Lindholm family, but she never minded that. The moments they spend together were always cherished by the youngest Amari.

She felt his lungs exhale quickly, a scoff coming from his mouth. Obviously, the idea wasn’t an option for him. “Please, child. To give up the fight would be a disservice to all those that have died to earn us our freedom. If I stopped fighting, how long would it take for the world to be plunged into chaos once again?” Fareeha returned the scoff, stating rather bluntly, “Reinhardt, the world is already in chaos. Let others protect our world. You have earned the right to rest.”

“I am resting right now, Fareeha. Your wish has been fulfilled.” Fareeha didn’t find the humor in that. She wasn’t in a laughing mood today. “You know what I meant, Reinhardt. Allow yourself to enjoy the simple things in life for once. You have been fighting your entire life. Is it too much to ask?”

“Hush, little one. Now is not the time for you to worry yourself with such problems.” Reinhardt pulled his hand away, remembering those that were inside. They hadn’t been outside for too long, but he didn’t want to stay out for too long. “Shall we head inside?” He asked, coming to a stand. When Fareeha shook her head, he didn’t pressure her further. “No, Reinhardt, I think I’m going to stay out here just a bit longer.”

“Very well. Take as long as you need.”

He headed back inside. She stayed where she was, watching the final streaks of the horizon light the night. Things seemed all too peaceful. Once again, she found herself silent and alone, left to her thoughts.

She’d return to the service soon. Things weren’t going to change, other than her mother no longer getting in contact with her. Not like she really was, anyway. The soldier’s morale was lower than she wanted it to be. With her service in the Egyptian Army coming to an end soon enough, she’d try her luck in joining Overwatch. Gabriel’s offer was something she didn’t take lightly, but the end of her contract was going to allow her to take up new opportunities.

Maybe Overwatch was the plan. She’d be doing a lot more in it than she was in the Army. That, and she’d be able to spend more time with Angela. That was something she planned to do, even if she couldn’t join Overwatch. She had to. She knew that Angela cared, and would continue to care despite most situations, but she needed to do more with her.

That was the plan. Nothing was going to get in the way of it.


End file.
